Keira has taken to ‘writing’ in a Word document I’ve specifically created for her; although her ‘writing’ more resembles the creations my old cat used to make whenever she used to walk across the keyboard. I always ask her: “What are you writing?” She answers: “I won’t know until I’m finished.” Which is exactly what…
Adam and I are currently considering buying a new house (partly for this reason; partly for others) and we’re looking at one just around the corner. However, the bedrooms are on different levels. For example, the main bedroom is downstairs (or so they tell us – we thought it was upstairs originally) and the secondary…
I wrote this some three months ago and it has languished – somewhat deservedly – in my drafts pile. However as I’m a bit busy this week I’m going to post it anyway as a reminder of the summer Melbourne has (NOT!) really had. ****** What’s the best way to describe C-H-A-L-L-E-N-G-E? How’s about when it’s…
Keira, to a waitress while we’re ordering in a cafe: “I’ll have a babycinno in a mug, please.”
I have always been the type of person who runs away and hides under the sheets whenever the barbs of life fall too close to the heart. This week has felt like one of those times. On the one hand I am so excited about the year ahead in general, but on the home front some…
I’ve mentioned this game before and now my son has discovered it. Although I’ve shot him here pointing at Arkansas, his favourite state is Washington. I guessed this because he walks around afterwards repeating: “Washington! Washington! Washington! Washington! Washington!” [For the Aussies out there, Washington is the orange state in the very top left corner…
I think I’ve found nits (lice) in Riley’s hair. I’ve just doused us all in the hair treatment and they’ve screamed like hell. I’m about to toss our linens and things in the wash on a hot cycle. Oh, the pure humiliation of it all. What else do I do?!
Gratitude – to all of you who’ve contacted me privately to express your sympathy, respects and, sadly, your own similar experiences. You’ve said it was brave of me to write what I did; I think it’s equally so to then make your confessions to me. Each has been taken into my bosom, and you can be…
The other night as I was serving our vegetables up for dinner, my chest went wet and I thought, “How could I have spilled water over myself?” As I peeled back my bathrobe it was soon plainly obvious that I had not spilled water. My breasts were leaking. And considering I gave up breastfeeding some…
