The Twelve Thousand Dollar Cooler
The IVF three years ago didn’t work, but the insulated bag the fertility clinic gave me all the drugs in is totally awesome for taking to the beach. #TheTwelveThousandDollarCooler
The IVF three years ago didn’t work, but the insulated bag the fertility clinic gave me all the drugs in is totally awesome for taking to the beach. #TheTwelveThousandDollarCooler
For the first time in ‘fro ever
Thank you, carrot cake, for simultaneously being delicious yet bearing a name that sounds so disgustingly healthy my children leave me alone while I eat you.
Dinner prep. Or, as I think of it: deciding what I most feel like cleaning off the floor later.
Tilly: “Look at the toenails on my hands!” Or, as regular people call them, “fingernails”.
Brunch with a side of blush today: Amy loudly announced “Daddy is going to marry another girlfriend and move overseas”. There were curious looks from other cafe patrons when Jeremy emerged from the loos, completely unaware of the fictitious scandal his four year old had aired. I’m really excited to find out what tales she makes up at school this week.
Amy’s school drop-in day. A chance to look around the classroom. A chance to meet the other kids. A chance to get excited about the year ahead. And, a chance to ask any burning questions, such as my daughter’s queries as to “if we go swimming can we do bombs in the pool” and my personal favourite, “are farts allowed at this school?”
Gave the girls the “we’re going to visit friends with a tiny baby, so please use your quiet voices” speech. Their reactions did nothing to fill me with confidence.
#PiratePrincess
Growing weary of an over-tired Tilly’s refusal to go to sleep, I outsourced the parenting to Siri. It seems singing lullabies to two year olds is not Siri’s strong point. So I offered Tilly chips and cartoons in the morning if she’d just go to bed. Success. I regret nothing. NOTHING.