My twins starting kindergarten was the proverbial light at the end of the [slightly worn] [not quite as tight as it used to be][prone to occasional leakage] stay at home mum tunnel. And despite a shaky start [for me], I’m now that mum tyre squealing away at 9:01, belting out George Michael’s “Freedom” at the top of her lungs.
As we enter the final term of kindy, ahead of Continue reading
I like to think we’re prepared for most things in our household.
We coped with the devastating and shocking blow that was the Brangelina split with no more disbelief, outrage and questioning of what love even is anymore than anyone heavily invested in the relationship of complete strangers might have. Continue reading
So, in my day to day life, a lot of my guilt quota is consumed [quite literally] with feeling bad about something I ate.
And occasionally some short lived contrition for being mad at my husband purely because he’s not Harry Styles.
When I have the emotional space for indulging myself in other forms of conscience Continue reading
I’m at that point in life where I consider brushing my hair as making an effort, so you can imagine my ongoing disgruntlement over the fact that I don’t awaken each morning looking like a glowing, charmingly freckled, incredibly wealthy, fresh faced, Blake Lively. Due to unfortunate circumstances known as genetics, my face doesn’t do that. Nor do I wake up Continue reading
Despite the fact that I’ve been told I really only have two children because my first were twins [please tell me this when I am singlehandedly trying to extricate three small, wilful individuals who have suddenly lost the ability to move their own limbs with any degree of coordination, from their car seats, in the rain, whilst a stream of traffic is waiting for me to shut the door and 2 out of 4 of us need Continue reading
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 ofΒ 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
