So far, only a few days out from the end of 2017, my “don’t have an affair with Chris Hemsworth” resolution is going great! And if I could just manage to stop letting my children get in the way of me eating an entire tub of ice cream in one sitting then I may just realise my dream of being crowned the queen of cellulite. #soclose 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
It is no secret that I have been silently mouthing GTFO of my house behind the backs of my five year old twins since abbbbouuuut day fourteen seven three of the summer holidays.
In fact, I was pretty confident [some may use the word ‘smug’ even] that come January 30 I was going to be gleefully hand balling 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
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
