Bear with a sore head

I'm going off the grog. Well, except for fortifieds after dinner, but they don't really count, they're just dessert. Oh, and weekends. Can't possibly go off the grog on weekends. Too many occasions that require social lubricant. So, I'm going off the grog from Monday to Friday. Well, except when I go out on Wednesdays. (Husband is home on Wednesdays, so... Continue Reading →

There will be blood

Sprog 1's birthday party was AWESOME. There were a few tense moments. Like when I forgot to give the "gross party" entertainers my phone number (and didn't have theirs), so they couldn't call to confirm they were coming and just sent a vague email wishing me a "great weekend". That freaked me out. I mean, shouldn't they have said "see... Continue Reading →

Hostess with the mostess

I am doing many strange things today. Like making a cake that looks like a cauldron, filling it with plastic eyeballs and lolly snakes, then sloshing icing "soup" around them. It's the centrepiece for Sprog 1's "gross" birthday party tomorrow. Such creative endeavours are not my forte, so I'm slightly nervous. I have lots of big ideas, but not a drop of artistic blood flows through my veins. It didn't stop... Continue Reading →

Welcome to the surreal world

Husband and I had lunch in Surry Hills yesterday. It was another world. There were all these leggy girls wandering around with white mascara (bizarre new beauty trend?) and orange fake tans. They looked like aliens. (But were possibly models.) The restaurant was filled with Rococco furniture and garden gnomes. People were drinking Mumm champagne, laughing merrily... Continue Reading →

Cult of the ancient mummies

I'm an ancient mummy. I'll be 54 when Sprog 1 comes of age. Jean Kittson has written a very funny article on the subject, called The Curse of the Ancient Mummy (http://thehoopla.com.au/curse-ancient-mummy/). It bemoans the drawbacks of being an older mother. Jean reckons it's prevented her bonding with all the other, younger school mums. She's obviously living in the wrong... Continue Reading →

Russian roulette

I'm not giving the Sprogs enough "quality time". It was supposed to be one of the big advantages of being a stay-at-home mum. But it aint happening. Last weekend was a prime example. On Saturday, I left home at 7.30am to visit a friend and didn't return until 2pm. Then I rushed around madly, preparing for guests who were arriving at 3.30pm.The guests brought their kids... Continue Reading →

Getting the chop

Sprog 1 is behaving strangely (and not in the usual gothic fashion). She emerged from her bedroom yesterday morning fully dressed. She was wearing a pretty skirt, leggings and a butterfly t-shirt (so she'd not only dressed, she'd layered). Then she found a brush and started brushing her hair. Without me asking. This is a girl who normally slumps... Continue Reading →

Keeping my cool

It was hot and sunny yesterday. Perfect swimming weather. I glared balefully over the fence at our neighbours, frolicking in their pool. They laughed, they splashed. I resented their watery happiness. The Sprogs gazed longingly over the fence at the neighbours, frolicking in their pool. I handed them water pistols and told them to suck... Continue Reading →

Caught short

Welcome to my 100th blog post. I'd like to celebrate by telling you an embarrassing story. It happened at a recent kindy mums' dinner and involves topics I decided were appropriate for regaling the table after four glasses of verdelho. Like how I'd been caught short at the last kindy mums' dinner and had a wee behind a tree on my walk home. Or that "since it's... Continue Reading →

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