Friendship as a parent is often just an exercise in two people planning to catch up, cancelling, forgetting to press send on the next text message and then tagging each other in funny memes on Facebook until you die.
Safe to say, it’s not actually easy maintaining adult friendships through the chaos Continue reading
Disclaimer: If you’re part of my family or friends or know me in real life in any capacity, see me at school drop off, might run into me randomly at the supermarket somehow, work with my husband or just generally think I look familiar and you may have met me once, you should probably stop reading this post at this point because it contains more information about my nether regions than you probably need know about. Continue reading
At the risk of offending anyone with a healthy dose of too much information, my husband and I are March breeders.
I don’t know what they’re putting in the water come autumn, but it must be a little shoo-wop shoo-waddy-waddy yippity boom-de-boom, because when we were trying to conceive, before you could say chang-chang Continue reading
1. If I can hear you chew, I have fantasised about your death.
2. Real pain is when you offer someone some of your food to be polite and they actually take it.
3. I don’t call anyone. I’m basically paying $100 a month to decline incoming calls, forget to Continue reading
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
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 of malodour and thinly veiled repulsion Continue reading