the end was just the beginning
I went to the gym yesterday. I am not a gym person. This is a gross understatement. I am hopelessly uncoordinated and I look awful in lycra. Group physical activity hasn't been my thing since primary school, when a teacher mimicked my bumbling basketball style for the amusement of my classmates. The last time I went to a gym was 12... Continue Reading →
After spending 500 gazillion hours on the internet, Googling "kids disco party" and goggling at paying Holly Hip Hop $310 for 90 minutes of jiggling and glitter tattoos, I've decided to kit Husband in only-gay-in-the-village attire and make him teach 16 six-year-old girls the Macarena and Time Warp instead. It's probably the last time we can act as DIY party entertainers without totally mortifying Sprog 2 - and we come super-cheap - so we might as well... Continue Reading →
I am a marketing department's wet dream. Give me 20 years and I'll be the crazy old lady with a house full of Franklin Mint porcelain dolls and plate. My latest collector madness has me alterately jogging or trudging to the newsagent at 6.30am every morning for the David-Attenborough-DVD-a-day offer from the Daily Telegraph. I must get... Continue Reading →
I was a bit shell-shocked after school drop-off yesterday, like I'd surived an attack. Birthday presents were the machine-gun-fire topic in the car. I tried to let the chatter wash over me, like white noise, but the little buggers are so persistent. When I don't respond to every single remark they make, they just repeat it again and again - louder and louder... Continue Reading →
Why are little girls so mean to each other? Sprog 1 came home from school yesterday, smiling brightly as she walked through the door. But when I asked about her day, she burst into tears. At lunchtime, her best friend told her she picks a new best friend every year, so see ya later. Holding her in my... Continue Reading →
A woman was standing at the school gates yesterday. She seemed vaguely familiar. Our eyes locked. We smiled tentatively. She said: "Do I know you from somewhere?" I replied: "Yes! Weight Watchers!" (She looked like someone who worked at Weight Watchers when it was an advertising client of my magazine.) The woman kind of froze, then said: "No, no, that wasn't it." It was only as I walked away... Continue Reading →
Sprog 1 has a cute trumpet teacher. I told her if she was a few years older, she'd have a crush on him. "So, do you have a crush on him?" she answered. "No," I replied, "I'm like ... 20 years ... older than him ... he's young enough to be my ... my son ..." My stomach gave a terrible lurch.... Continue Reading →
Sprog 1 has entered Year 3. Year 3 is NAPLAN year. This makes me slightly apprehensive - discovering how Sprog 1's brain compares to the rest of the state. But what I'm more anxious about is "volunteer year" - parents of Year 3 students are expected to run all fundraising events for the school. This is no small undertaking in a school of 700+ children. There's the disco,... Continue Reading →
I was the weird girl wearing a black armband when Split Enz broke up. And a red cap, long before sunsense was fashionable. When it rained, I wore my dad's old green raincoat. Not terribly fashionable either, but I thought it was COOL. I didn't move with the Duran Duran crowd. They invited me to sit... Continue Reading →
Strike a chord and say cheese ... PLUS! Sunday bake-off: Wholemeal banana bread Sprog 2 rejects my homemade efforts for her lunchbox, preferring everything in bright, commercial wrappers, but Sprog 1 loves DIY treats. This recipe is handy for using up all the manky bananas in the fruit bowl at the end of the week. So... Continue Reading →
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