Fuck You, Toilet Training.

I have been a mother for 1682 days. I have changed countless nappies, fully toilet trained one kid and am just about done with the other one. The end is in sight! But I’ve still got a way to go. I still have to to be greeted with the vertical brown smile when they “touch…

Fuck You, Code Brown.

I wondered if I would be able to write this week, because I am currently holidaying in a stunning resort in the Mamanuca group of islands, Fiji. There has been equal mix of smugness in the fact that I managed to book this without a single post on a mother’s group Facebook page, and also…

Fuck You, Gastro.

Gastro is like the worst relationship you have ever had. One that you should never have gotten into in the first place, but did so against your better judgement (and the pleading of your friends and family). It starts out fairly innocently. You get this niggling feeling in your belly that something isn’t right. You…

Fuck You, Smells of Parenthood.

Man I love my kids. I would die for them without a second thought. But far out, being a mum is tainted with some pretty fucked up fragrances isn’t it? My three year old proudly told me this morning that her bed smelled like wee. When I questioned her about it she said “If you…

Fuck You, Chicken Skin Handbag.

Fuck You, Chicken Skin Handbag. When my second womb raider was born I was delighted to find out I had a little boy. The midwife pulled him out (with some help from The Husband) and spread his little legs right over my face so I could see what flavour we got. So the first view…