My mum’s a light touch doomsday-prepper. Not the kind who stores gallons of water and gas masks in the cellar (although if we had a cellar she most definitely would). She’s more the… err domestic kind. Prepared for “end of the world household situations”. Like when you run out of cling film. Da da da…
Every year I embark on an annual migration Down Under to reconnect with my wolf pack. But these days it’s a very different journey. My flight routine – which used to consist of me happily gorging on a Toblerone, wildly leafing through a National Enquirer, before settling in for a neck jarring 8-hour kip –…
This week, our spirited three-year-old Alice felt “just a bit sad”. Alice is curious, determined and effervescent… but almost never sad. She cried a little in Beauty and the Beast… popcorn hanging off her protruded bottom lip. She called her best friend James a “banana”… then felt so bad about it she trudged off on…
You sometimes hear stories about kids eating the “wrong berries” in the garden. I sort of figured it was just folklore created to encourage vigilant parenting. These things never actually happen, right? I really should have known better. After all, the origins of the berry folklore probably originated from the escapades of my delinquent brother…
I’m the mum at softplay, the farm and playgroup, who’s forever chasing down her two rambunctious toddlers as they leave a trail of destruction in their wake. Kids sprawled across the ground, wailing at their mums about how “she ran into me”, or “he took my goat food”. Yes goat food. My kids can’t help…
When I was five years and five weeks old, I trotted off to year one – or rather flip, flap, flopped as it was raining, and when it rained, Mum always made us wear thongs to school so our sneakers wouldn’t get wet. Yes thongs. Now, now, don’t get excited. I’m Australian, so I’m allowed…
I’m the mum at softplay, the farm and playgroup, who’s forever chasing down her two rambunctious toddlers as they leave a trail of destruction in their wake. Kids sprawled across the ground, wailing at their mums about how “she ran into me”, or “he took my goat food”. Yes goat food. My kids can’t help…
My daughter Alice is three… and she’s in love. It’s very simple. Alice has been in love with her “best friend James” (also three) for as long as their short legs have propelled them towards each other. “For three whole years”, Alice will tell you (holding up five fingers). When you’re three, love is about…
If you happened to catch my last review (Mr Bunny’s Chocolate Factory) then you’ll know that I’m on a diet. Had to happen. Waaay too many chocolate eggs. SO, imagine my eggcitement to receive a book featuring not one but too delicious food reminders: Chicken Nugget in Scrambled Egg. Yikes. Give me strength. I LOVE…
Easter’s coming. Know how I know? On washday, there are little tiny scrunched up balls of coloured foil in ALL of my trouser pockets. Plus the trousers are now too tight. MUCH too tight. At this rate I’ll be wearing only ponchos by the time Good Friday rolls around. So in an effort to curb…
Right about now, the world could use a good hero story… something to rescue us from all the chaos and lift our spirits. Luckily, heroes never go out of style and this most unlikely champ, from Florence Parry Heide’s How To Be A Hero, is sure to put a smile on your face. True of…
Let’s face it… The beard trend might just be here to stay. Facial fuzz has been the fad of choice for the 2010s. The hipsters’ version of 30s’ slicked back hair, the 50s’ high waisted trousers and the 80s’ sweater around the neck. So I guess a picture book about a beard was bound to…
Sir Dancelot is probably not a bedtime story. At least not the way we read it. Don’t get comfortable. Get your boogie shoes on. Stick the cassette in the deck, because… ‘You should be dancing!’ And it goes a little something like this… Sir Dancealot gets all the fearsome beasties to ‘Beat It’ when he ‘Jumps…
It’s that time of year… every step fraught with muddy puddle danger. Park the car in the wrong spot… and suddenly you’re armpit deep in a boghole! And the kids seem to have a sixth sense for seeking out puddles, like little sludge-seeking missiles. No doubt thanks to a certain Pig who shall not be…
I didn’t think I’d turn into my Mum. But I’ve turned into my Mum. With ALL the same catchphrases… *Toddler pokes tongue*… “The wind’ll change and you’ll be stuck like that!”… *Toddler’s 1cm from the tellie*… “Don’t sit so close you’ll ruin your eyes”. And the Mum-equivalent of the red detonation button…. “YOU’VE GOT UNTIL…
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