the end was just the beginning
I've created a monster. Everywhere I go it follows me: wife-swap this, wife-swap that. People edge up to me in the park to share intelligence. A mum says she's heard you put a certain pot plant on your verandah to signal your availability. She's been googling madly, trying to confirm which one. Purely for research purposes. A dad reckons house keys are exchanged during... Continue Reading →
I went to school with Kathleen Folbigg. Well, she was Kathy Marlborough back then. We weren't close, but we moved in the same circles. She's probably the most famous person to attend my high school. Well, she's definitely the most infamous. That's because she's serving 30 years behind bars for murdering her four children. Her first baby, Caleb, lived 19... Continue Reading →
It's probably not the first place you'd choose, but I want a holiday house in Newcastle. Yes, yes, Bryon is lovely, Bateman's probably rocks and I know Sawtell is superb. None of them hold a candle to Newcastle. I grew up in Newcastle (so shut your gob). I was dead keen to leave when I was 21. Now I fantasise about moving back (when... Continue Reading →
It's scary in my bedroom. Bugs crawl on me in the night. Creatures thunder above my head. I wake up screaming. Husband is getting a bit sick of the screaming, but what would you do if a cockroach landed on you at 1.30am? A big, fat, 10cm-long cockroach ... It can't be a household hygiene problem, not with... Continue Reading →
School holidays are quite a struggle without carbs and caffeine. Especially when Sprog 2 wants to play charades. Seriously? Charades? Oh yes! Sprog 2 is a DOER. She wants to garden, she wants to play badminton, she wants to cook, she wants to kick a ball around, she wants to play boardgames. Every. Single. Day. (Husband and I often wonder if... Continue Reading →
Is it wrong to pretend to do stuff in the name of "being a good mother" when it's actually because you're having a fat crisis? I took the kids to the park on Sunday. I said it was so Sprog 2 could go bike riding. But it was really so I could go jogging. I made it once around the park, turned purple, started wheezing and had to stop. It was... Continue Reading →
It's worse than I thought. Much, much worse. 70.3kg of worseness. I took a deep breath yesterday and stepped on the scales. Then I staggered - horrified but not totally surprised - downstairs to check my BMI on the computer. Being only 164cm tall and weighing 70.3kg (oh how it hurts to say that number), my BMI is 26.1. According to the Better Health Channel website, a... Continue Reading →
My New Year's Eve went something like this ... Cooked bacon sandwiches for Sprogs' breakfast (to remove temptation from fridge for The Great Famine of 2012); did grocery shopping; bought Husband six-pack of beer for New Year's Eve party; bought chooks 25kg bag of scratch mix; staggered to car with 25kg bag of scratch mix; washed and... Continue Reading →
I can't donate my organs because of The Black Spot. Well, that's what my mother reckons. When I was 17, a black spot appeared on my upper arm. The skin specialist removed it, sent it off for testing, pronounced it benign and that was the end of it. Well, so I thought. But not according to my mother.... Continue Reading →
The Great Faminine of 2012 begins on January 1. I'm preparing for it like a chipmunk storing nuts for winter. Except I'm eating all the nuts instead of putting them in a hollow tree trunk. I've been stuffing my cheeks with everything on my forbidden food list. All the carb-rich foods I've denied myself because... Continue Reading →
