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
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
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
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