How Hard Could It Be?

The children stayed with my brother and sister last night. So, the Sound Guy and I finally got to watch the final episode of GoT. I was left wondering whether Kit Harrington had to have butt-cheek-make-up, and whether Cersei's shaman-dude was going to figure out a way to control the White Walkers. I was also... Continue Reading →

Sleeping Children

On many occasion in my parenting groups, mamas who are having a hard time get given the advice: go and look at your sleeping baby. Because all the bullshit falls away when we're gazing at the relaxed faces of our angelic, sleeping, children. Somewhere in the creation of rules of humanity, there was this one:... Continue Reading →

Choices

Somewhere in New Zealand right now there's a woman who doesn't dare leave her husband, because she can't fathom how she'll make ends meet without his income. On her own, she wouldn't be able to make the mortgage payment, the grocery bill, the school bills, the electric, gas, firewood, petrol, and maybe a feed of... Continue Reading →

All The Ways

Swimming was something I'd been doing since I could - forever. I had a group of people I though of as my (faster-than-me-) swimming-friends. And I went to swimming camps and learnt camp-songs and that taking aspirin and drinking coke was meant to give you a high.

Dancing the day away.

When I lived in the Netherlands I had an hour-long commute to work. I would leave home in the dark and join the other plebs on the road in the early morning, insulated coffee cups in hand. The radio station I mostly listened to had a larrikin disc jockey, and one of his gags was... Continue Reading →

Apologies

Apologies are the mainstay of my parenting. I fuck up all the time. And then I apologise. And then I hope like hell that I don't do it again, that I haven't totally screwed my kids up for life, and that they won't need therapy to get over my appalling mothering. I wrote a blog... Continue Reading →

Weird things I’m teaching my kids

That there are towels appropriate for swimming, and towels appropriate for the bathroom. And never the twain shall meet. What is it about the big, bright, fluffy swimming towels that makes my head jerk to the side like an inquisitive jack russell when I see them hanging in my bathroom? Are we bigger at the... Continue Reading →

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