Where for art thou, cheese and bacon roll?

Do your children snack on fruit, low-sodium wholewheat crackers and natural yoghurt? Well bully for you. Sprog 2's diet drives me to despair. She's a processed food junkie. There's one faintly beige "wholemeal" bread she'll eat. Her morning tea is a shameful collection of little plastic-wrapped, artificially coloured and flavoured treats. Getting her to consume... Continue Reading →

Country girl?

Fresh air, cheap houses, gourmet produce ... Every time I visit Albury I want to move there. Really. It helps that my parents-in-law live in fantasy land. They have a brand new house with every mod-con, even a ducted vacuum system. Ooooh, I'd love a ducted vacuum system. The in-laws serve fancy nibbles before dinner each night:... Continue Reading →

Christmas cuckoo

I've lost it. Totally lost it. Nothing else explains my delirious excitement about Christmas. I can't wait. I'm beside myself with anticipation. I haven't felt this way since I was 10. Well, more like 22. (There was this crazy phase between 18 and 22 where I sewed Christmas stockings for my parents, sister and grandparents and buzzed around searching for little gifts to fill them with each... Continue Reading →

Naked ambition

Some school mums got naked in the lounge room yesterday. I wanted to strip and join them, but I was too shy. They go to the gym every day, they're all skinny and toned. They tried to talk me into taking my clothes off. They assured me a bit of belly blubber didn't matter. I just couldn't. Let me explain ... the mums have bought a salon-standard... Continue Reading →

Half-baked idea

What sadist mother came up with the concept of sending your child to school with cupcakes on their birthday? Twenty-six more bloody cupcakes. I've had it up to HERE with sugar, butter and flour. I spent all of Friday baking spider cupcakes, tombstone cupcakes and eyeball soup birthday cakes for Sprog 1's birthday party. The chickens... Continue Reading →

Maybe baby?

Someone asked if I was pregnant in the playground yesterday. I get that a lot. And it's not just a since-I-left-work-and-let-myself-go thing. Once, when the office lunch trolley man posed the question, I growled, "Nuh, just fat ... pass the lasagne." Years ago, a French work associate congratulated me on my happy news. I told him I was "just fat" too.... Continue Reading →

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