the end was just the beginning
Why do children turn into goldfish when you ask them: What did you do at school today? "Can't remember," they reply. Or "nothing". Sprog 1 is particularly good at keeping her school cards close to her chest. I never hear a thing. Not one word. But then, Sprog 1 is pretty good at keeping everything close to her... Continue Reading →
I am fretting - a little prematurely, I'll grant you - about having teenaged daughters. It's only five years away and I'm getting nervous. Teenaged girls seem to be a handful, from what I've witnessed at Luna Park, local shopping centres, canteen duty and social gatherings. For a start, they wear way too much make-up and not nearly enough clothes for my liking.... Continue Reading →
Topic of conversation among the canteen mums yesterday: first memories. Not the eating slugs kind, significant world events. "I remember Robert Kennedy being assassinated," said one. "I remember the Vietnam War ending," said another. "Man walking on the moon," said a third. "Bay of Pigs," said a fourth. I found this weird on several levels.... Continue Reading →
There is no time. How can there be no time? I don't work anymore. There should be plenty of time. I want to hyperventilate when I think about the crazy week ahead of me. Today, I'm on canteen duty until 2.30pm, then I'll pick the kids up at 3pm. Sprog 2 has dance class at 3.45pm. Sprog 1... Continue Reading →
I saw dolphins bodysurfing yesterday. I called to Husband and the Sprogs and we gathered to watch them frolic on the waves. I saw bluebottles too, scattered on the water's edge. I kicked sand over them, hoping the Sprogs wouldn't notice. Sprog 2 is terrified of bluebottles. One wrapped around her thigh in January and she screamed for hours.... Continue Reading →
Every morning at 6am, I go for a walk. I see strange things on my walks - an AWOL grey bunny that's somehow avoided being eviscerated by dogs, foxes, crows; entrails strewn across the path, from a chook that hasn't avoided being eviscerated by dogs, foxes, crows (or perhaps a satanist has moved into the neighbourhood); a woman letting herself into the children's playground with her dog so he... Continue Reading →
I asked Sprog 1 what she wanted for her birthday a few days ago. She said: "Draculaura". I said: "We've talked about this, you can't have a book that teaches you how to be a vampire." She said: "It's not a book, Mum. It's a doll." I said: "Oh, a doll ..." Sprog 1 has... Continue Reading →
As we drove to lunch yesterday, Husband started talking about the latest book he's been reading, The Goldilocks Enigma. Apparently it's about how the universe is infinitely bigger than previously imagined, that there might be lots of other universes and how electrons work and stuff. I said "uh-huh" a lot - in what I hoped was a learned manner - but... Continue Reading →
OK, the novelty of watching DVDs with sick Sprog 1 has worn off. The days are passing in a haze of Doctor Who re-runs and unmade beds. (Who am I kiddding? The beds are always unmade, unless visitors are coming.) Anyway, there's a lot of mess, and I have even less time to clean it up... Continue Reading →
Sprog 1 stayed home sick yesterday. We passed the time unconventionally. First, we watched the Orlando DVD I'd bought Husband for Fathers Day. Not technically a kiddie flick (understatement), but Sprog 1 appeared quite engrossed and refused all offers to turn it off. Then we glued together her Daily Telegraph T-rex model (quite difficult, I may revise my plan to buy... Continue Reading →
housegoeshome 