After a weekend stay in a city centre apartment with two small sons, Edel Morgandecided that there might be more to family life than a home in the burbs.
THE MOMENT my 15-month-old son drop-kicked a ball-shaped lamp in the main bedroom of the duplex show apartment of the Ivory Building, I knew our stay there was going to be anything but dull.
A few weeks previously, when we were asked to try family life in a three-bed docklands apartment off Sir John Rogerson's Quay, we jumped at the chance. After four relentless months of vomiting bugs and infections, we'd had enough of being sick in suburbia and were more than ready for a new reality in the city centre. But as we swung onto Cardiff Lane on our way to the apartment, a crowd of hip singletons spilling out of The Ferryman pub made me wonder if we should head straight back to our safe suburban comfort zone.
The minute we walked into the apartment, my anxiety levels immediately started to rise. Although I'd had a brief glimpse earlier when I collected the keys, with two marauding toddlers in tow I suddenly realised the full scope for destruction.
Instead of appreciating the decor, which included a stunning photograph from the Green Wall Gallery, olive walls, mint-coloured throws and sleek Scandinavian furniture, I started to panic about sticky paw marks and spew all over the cream fabric corner sofa in the livingroom. Like a whirling dervish on speed I whizzed about placing stylish breakables onto high shelves - but, alas, wasn't quick enough to save the lamp.
Since high density guidelines were introduced and apartments and townhouses have made up the bulk of new homes, we've been hearing how a lot of Irish families will have to get over their obsession with the suburban idyll of a house with gardens and embrace apartment life.
After living that suburban idyll in a family-oriented Dublin estate where the neighbours are friendly and the leaf-quota is high, I'd be the first to admit it has its shortcomings. For one, it's hardly life in the fast lane, the choice of good restaurants within walking distance of our house is Hobsons. Our local pub welcomes children but not buggies (and doesn't even have a buggy store), so getting there involves the palaver of piling everyone into the car for a two-minute drive. While we have a small park beside our house, the nearest playground at St Anne's Park in Clontarf is a little too far to walk to with young children.
The attraction of the city centre is that everything is on your doorstep and raising a family seems an edgier, more cosmopolitan existence. We saw our stay in the Ivory Building as a trial run but realised that making it work involved changing our pre-conception of what family life should be.
We reasoned that while we were losing a back garden, we were gaining a roof garden. The living/diningroom in the apartment was smaller than ours but we were gaining a bigger bathroom, an en suite shower room and a downstairs toilet. While you'd hope that a balcony would help compensate for the lack of private garden, it was barely big enough for a few pot plants, never mind a family of four or furniture.
On the fourth floor overlooking a lot of old warehousing and derelict buildings, the thinking may have been - why bother, with a big balcony when there isn't much of a view, but it may have been a missed opportunity for residents to survey a rapidly changing part of the city and benefit from another living space.
Shortly after the lamp incident we went to Lannigans Restaurant in the adjacent Quality Hotel with slightly frayed nerves. It was after 7.30pm and with the two boys tired and excited we were worried there might be tantrums at tea-time. We were relieved to find a family-friendly place where the staff were welcoming and didn't make us feel like we were disturbing the peace - even though we were making more noise than a nearby hen party.
An airy restaurant, big enough to absorb the din of even the rowdiest of mites, we were seated in an area of booths with other families and the children's menu was superior to the usual chicken nuggets fare.
The crowning moment was when my husband and I realised we could both have a glass or two of wine and only had a short walk back to the apartment.
The next morning we headed out to explore the area. The busy roads were a worry, and there was a scary moment when my three-year-old bolted out onto Forbes Street. We went on to Grand Canal dock, had brunch in Ely HQ and congratulated ourselves on how hip and European we are. Then it was back for our photoshoot on the concrete roof garden of the building, a substantial space with great views of the city and neat box hedging. A cool outdoor space for young singletons and couples, I couldn't help but yearn for grass as my gung-ho 15-month-old tore along with his hands in the air, eventually falling over, before picking himself up and trying to wedge himself through a tiny gap in the balustrade - there's a good reason his nickname in the crèche is Houdini.
My three-year-old kept asking when were were going back to the "different house". Both seemed quite at home in the apartment, which shows how adaptable children are, although we had a few incidents where they smacked their heads off unfamiliar furniture. There was a terrifying moment when I went upstairs to check on the three-year-old and found the front door open - unusually there were front doors on both levels of the duplex - and heard screams of "Help, mammy, daddy" coming from outside.
He had managed to turn the lock and open the door - and was knocking at another apartment door, after losing his bearings. A family with children would have to change the locks and front door handles and move them out of reach.
A feature of the apartment I loved was the fine-sized hall and landing and the proportions of the single bedroom which would be used as both a bedroom and a study. All of the rooms were bright and sunny but the wardrobe space, although adequate for a single person or couple, wasn't enough for a family. There was a substantial storage area under the stairs and a cubbyhole upstairs but I couldn't imagine us squeezing all the accoutrements of family life into them.
Our three-wheeler buggy (plus our spare one) would fit comfortably along with an ironing board, hoover, and shopping bags and other everyday items. But even hardcore minimalists need somewhere to store extra toys, clothes, books, suitcases, glasses, cutlery and DVDs - which is where an attic is useful. The living/diningroom kitchen was perfect for one or two bodies but might become confining for any more.
On Saturday night our babysitter arrived at the apartment at 7pm and we went to Ely HQ for cocktails before walking into town for a meal. Sunday was an idyllic day - the first warm sunny day of the year and we walked to the Market Bar on Fade Street in the south city centre for lunch, coming back through St Stephen's Green and on to Grand Canal Dock. Because we didn't have to battle traffic or load everyone into and out of the car several times, we were tired but not harassed at the end of our adventure.
On Monday we went for lunch in the Quality Hotel, before packing up our belongings and shipping back to suburbia, leaving the apartment relatively intact.
Our stay was merely a snapshot of apartment life in the city centre but it planted the seed that semi-d life in the burbs is not the be-all and end-all and there are alternatives.
We could live a full life in the city centre but while the Ivory Building is fabulous if you're young and childless, the jury is still out on whether many of the swanky new developments in town are really being built with children in mind.
And if not, is it a missed opportunity to catapult Irish families into 21st century European life?
Five apartments remain in the Ivory Building, being sold through agent HT Meagher O'Reilly. A three-bed 97sq m (1,044sq ft) duplex apartment is €525,000 and four two-bed units range from €429,000 to €496,000 for the show apartment
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