Wiping your child’s ass is a delicate balance between breathing through your mouth so as to eliminate the invasive odour, but simultaneously attempting to avoid actually inhaling an entire sewerage systems worth of invisible poo particles into your mouth, mid wipe.
I know this because it is an elegant waltz of malodour and thinly veiled repulsion Continue reading
This week my lonely letter box, the one that has been distinctly lacking in top secret online shopping deliveries, because of a little thing I like to call our bank balance, instead has been inundated with catalogues awash with a myriad of fabliss ideas for Mother’s Day.
And the word awash seems irritatingly appropriate Continue reading
If there’s anything I’ve learnt since becoming a parent (and there are many weird and wonderful things), it’s that kids make your house a home.
And by home, I mean the place where toys go to die.
For there was a time in the not too distant past Continue reading
As a parent I’ve learnt many lessons along the way. Important lessons, life affirming lessons, lessons I perhaps wish I didn’t have cause to learn.
Things like the fact that everything I ever said or thought about having children before I had them was bullshit. (Insert blanket apology to anyone I ever spoke to Continue reading
The morning of the first day of kindy for my twins started like any other day really;
Après breakfast “impromptu” photoshoot whereby I force my first born children to snuggle up to me lovingly in appropriate lighting in order to replicate the wonder and emotion of Continue reading
Truth be told, anyone that knows me in slightly more depth than my aesthetically pleasing Instagram feed and my strategic choice of Facebook profile pictures, may well take issue with the suggestion that I was ever, in fact, cool.
I’m just putting it out there… But possibly, (and I appreciate Continue reading
So no one is going to accuse me of running rancho relaxo at my house.
I recently confessed that I was always going to be a routine mum, and having twins just gave me a good excuse to use when other people gave me shit about the army boot camp regime that masquerades as the running of my household. I’ve Continue reading
This week I was forced to endure the self esteem annihilation exercise that is shopping for jeans.
It was either that or continue sporting a saggy-ass pair of black jeans that have stretched to the point of no return. And, having given birth to three babies, I feel like I have the authority to make accurate assessments Continue reading
I am one of those highly irritating, plan ruining, visit inhibiting, clock watching, fun stealing, routine parents.
I like to pretend that I had no choice but to be a routine parent because I began my motherhood journey in a cold sweat at the obstetrician being told I was expecting not one, but two babies. At once. Together. Both at the same time. Continue reading
In my three and a half years as a parent, I feel like I’ve learned more than I did in the whole of year eleven high school. The lessons your children can teach you are frequent, varied, sometimes painful and often to the detriment of the tenuous remains of your social dignity. And for me, almost always learned the hard way.
Let me just say Continue reading