OK, so you might have heard a lot about how “parent sex” is basically what happens in the bathroom with the door locked in the 5 minutes the kids are distracted by ABC2.
I’m not gonna lie though, Continue reading
OK, so you might have heard a lot about how “parent sex” is basically what happens in the bathroom with the door locked in the 5 minutes the kids are distracted by ABC2.
I’m not gonna lie though, Continue reading
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
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
Now I don’t know as much about parenting as Pete Evans, but what I will tell you is that I’ve discovered parenting is a lot easier when I’m not around my kids.
As one might imagine, school holidays have made this dynamic incredibly difficult. 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’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 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