Gym flunkie

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 →

Last days of disco

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 →

There’s a sucker born every minute

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 →

Different strokes

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 →

Sticks and stones

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 →

Big fat faux pas

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 →

Commitment phobia

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 →

Who were you in high school?

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 →

Cheers and jeers

You know you're in trouble when you're slooshing down your Panamax with a glass of champagne at 4pm ... I am sooooooo not good at drinking alcohol during daylight hours. Oh, it's a blast at the time, but come evening I'm a bleary mess. So, I arrived home from a luncheon yesterday a little over-sauced.... Continue Reading →

The other “c” word (plus the “n” word)

Sprog 2 has an insect phobia. We thought we got it under control last year (with some expensive professional assistance), but it's baaaaaack. She refuses to go out in the backyard because THERE ARE BUGS! This sucks because it's also where her favourite Christmas gift - mini wheelbarrow, rake, shovel etc - is, along with her chooks (we used to collect the eggs... Continue Reading →

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