Happy birthday Georgia
Ten years ago, when I was 20, I had a baby. I'm not sure whose idea that was exactly. It definitely wasn't my mum's idea. I remember the way her voice broke when I told her I was pregnant. I'd known
A Tooth Fairytale
We had some Big Dramz at my place last night. If you've ever wondered why you might need an ex-husband, one of the reasons is that he will occasionally come to your house, sit on your couch and then accidentally
Parenting the little girl with the crazy eyes
I'm quite introspective at the moment, going through that usual crisis of just your bog standard futility of life. Most nights I go to bed just after eight and sit with my back against the wall and spread out across
So in summary …
Sometimes life calls for a summary post. It's not always easy to make the words come out in the right order, especially if you've been giving them to NaNoWriMo instead. Georgia Six months ago we went to Georgia's teacher in desperation, to
A proud mother moment
I've often used this blog to talk about my elder daughter, and how often I worry that I'm not doing the right thing by her. She is clever as hell and beautiful like a painting. Yesterday, Georgia brought home her NAPLAN results. I don't know
Yes
When I was 19, I was engaged to a man I had known for less time than it took the kettle to boil. We lived together in a tiny flat that backed against the train line and had a courtyard
How to be moderately good at suburbia
Apparently we now take both of the children to basketball on Saturday mornings. This is my entree into the world of weekend sport, and you know, I don't hate it. My Saturdays had become a bit of Me Sitting at
A man’s job
The oak door swung open, and a frantic man charged into the office. "Jack! Jack! My child is sick! The school just called me, I have to go pick her up immediately!" Until then, it had just been a normal day. At
Willies and balls (adult content)
The kids' playroom looks like an elephant shat paper and textas, so it's clean out time. I'm one of those tragic parents who keeps every scrap of paper my children have ever breathed on, so I have been thorough in
When I went to the clinic and then left again
I arrive at the clinic and feel the blood drain from my face. I want to be done with it, to feel relief and freedom, and I hate myself for it. Gaz has been agitated with me from the early morning, and to not feel his warm hands around me exacerbates how empty I feel. This is the third time I've been to the clinic in the past month. I take my patient information form and try sitting in a different corner of the waiting room. I am crippled by terror and I make a desperate call to another clinic. - Please, I'm desperate, do you have any places today? - I'm sorry, I don't think we do. - I'm already at the other clinic and I just can't do it, help me. - Come in at 1 and we'll see if we can squeeze you in. I run from the clinic to Gaz, who is sitting on the ground next to my car with a cigarette. He is lit up like a bushfire. He doesn't look at me. My phone rings. - Hello, we've had a cancellation. Can you come in now? - Yes.
6:53am – bam, out the door!
You guys, the most incredible thing happened this morning. I'm struggling to process it even now, several hours later. Someone else took my children to school. This is how beautiful the sky looks when you get out of bed and no one