When I had the nice - sorry, I mean terrible - illness that made me thin, I wasn't allowed to eat potatoes. Potatoes are fabulous. I love potatoes. I love them baked, I love them mashed, I love them fried, I love them in curries, I love them in stews. I was a bit heartbroken... Continue Reading →
Living small, stressing large
Prior to becoming a stay-at-home mum, I never thought much about the first day back at school (other than "Thank god, my childcare bills will no longer hover around the $700-a-week mark."). Husband usually took the Sprogs while I drove to work. When I came home, the Sprogs would tell me all their news: who their teacher was, who... Continue Reading →
The Sprogs go back to school today. I was really excited about it a week ago, but this morning I'm feeling sad. It's like childbirth - I've already forgotten the pain and I want another one, as soon as possible. We had fun, the Sprogs and I. Sprog 1, bless her, told my friend the best part of the holidays... Continue Reading →
Much less disturbing than Bloody Sunday ...
Sunday Bloody Sunday
I'll begin with an assurance: today's blog isn't a sequel to Friday's post, entitled "Warning: This One's About PMT". That would be too much information about me. Which is saying something. But don't get too comfy, because it's actually about chook poo. Waaaay too much information about chook poo. Specifically bloody chick poo. Whenever I pick up our new... Continue Reading →
Are you kidding me???
I was cleaning out the chick cage yesterday when I noticed an opinion column about childcare. It made me so cross, I wanted the chicks to poo on it (but they crapped on the weather instead, which is understandable.) It was filled with moral outrage from readers. The most annoying stuff was written by women, which really, really, really got on my goat. I hate it when women start being judgemental about other women's childcare... Continue Reading →
Warning: this one’s about PMT
Isn't it always the way? Just when you're seeing the light, something ugly sneaks into your head during the night: PMT. Like my wrinkles, my waistline and my memory, my PMT is getting worse with age. I thought it would recede with my child-bearing capabilities. But no, it's cranking things up a notch. It's probably prepping me - deep breath - for menopause. (Nooooooo!). I spend two weeks every... Continue Reading →
The most wonderful thing happened yesterday. It felt like I'd won the lottery. I was totally ALONE. For a whole eight hours. Husband took the Sprogs to the Harry Potter exhibition at the Powerhouse Museum while I stayed home. By myself! I didn't even turn music on, the silence was too glorious to spoil. It was only supposed to be a short expedition to the exhibition (try saying that... Continue Reading →
Survivor: Home Island
My plans for yesterday got cancelled at the last minute. I should have been relieved, but I panicked. How would I amuse the Sprogs all day? Movies, beach, play centre, IKEA jaunt ...? A quiet day at home didn't make the list. (It's an illness. I should be medicated.) But the Sprogs rejected The Muppet Movie, the weather looked too inclement for... Continue Reading →
Family Fatigue Syndrome: the secondary infection
Do you ever have days when life seems insurmountably arduous? You wake far too early after way too little sleep. You can't get back to sleep because you're thinking about all the stuff you need to do. Mondays after weekends away particularly brutal. I don't sleep well in "foreign" beds, I come home to washing that hasn't been done, suitcases to unpack,... Continue Reading →