Featured, Him, Me

Warning: poop alert!

January 27, 2018

Warning: POOP story alert.

Only a handful of my friends and family know about this.

I eventually thought I’d share it, but for some reason I’ve always felt particularly horrified that it actually happened.

Anyhoo… today just feels like the right day to share one of my more mortifying “Australian” experiences of my life.

The Husband and I had decided early on that we were “the ones” and knew we’d get married yada yada yada…one night Adam did the whole “you know I love you, we’ll get married…but can we start trying to get pregnant now?”

A couple of romps and three weeks later I was pregnant. High fives and “yes Dear, you’re the Inseminator” jokes all round.

I made mention to Future Husband early on of not wanting to be a pregnant bride. It had nothing to do with appearances, I was more concerned with watching 148 of our our wedding guests drink Champagne while I sat there in a tainted white dress, fat and cranky jealously sucking on some overpriced effing mineral water.

Even though I maintained this stance throughout my pregnancy, I still didn’t have a ring on my finger at 7 months along. It was Summer so I was fat, hot and a tad emotional that we weren’t ‘officially’ engaged. I should have listened to Beyoncé #wheresmyringyoubastard

On the morning of my birthday (December 14 for future reference people) FH was all sweet and blah blah. He said, “ooooh, I’ve taken the day off and I’m going to take you on a picnic down by the lake”

Nice. As a heavily pregnant starving woman who had only just consumed 1900 calories for breakfast, a picnic sounded fab! So off we went. We drove the car the incredible distance of 900 metres and then I waddled a further 200 metres to a sandy private area by the lake.

Lovely jubbily.

FH spread out a picnic blanket and put out a few little pregnancy approved (read: everything on the planet) munchies for us. I waddled into the water and had a blood pressure cooling dip.

I must admit FH seemed a tad nervous – but in my bloated unmarried pregnant mind, I just assumed he was on edge about being near a hormonally fueled pregnant woman.

And then I felt a low rumblimg.

Oh for the love of God and Adam Levine’s naked body, please not now. Not here. But I suppose what goes in must come out. So I clenched my medium size butt cheeks and said to FH

“Oooh, I really need to go to the toilet”

“Just go and wee in the water babe” was his reasonable response.

“No Babe. I. Need.To. Do. A. Poo”

I started to panic as I wouldn’t make it to the Windang Surf Club toilets. A bikini clad running pregnant women with clenched butt cheeks would never make a 200 metre dash in time. I also knew that an unsupported 90 kilo squat on a sandy knoll was completely out of the question.

So the FH said “Just go into the water and do an Aqua”

“Sorry? A What? An Aqua?”

“An Aqua…you just go in the water, pull your cossies to the side and do a poo. All the Clubbies do it. Just check the current though, you don’t want that thing coming back at you”

Oh. My. God.

I had heard rumours about this -and even knew not to swim in the warm up area at a surf carnival. I just always thought that was about wee. Not a poo biscuit making a potential lunge at an unsuspecting swimmer.

Nope, definitely not for this ex-North Shore Girl non-clubbie classy Laaaady. I’m not a public pooper.

I don’t fucking think so.

But an urge is an urge. And a pregnant woman’s urges waits for no-one. So in I went. FH started giggling and yelling instructions from the shoreline.

Random thoughts of sharks being attracted to poo entered my mind. Could you imagine the headline:

“Pregnant woman’s bum torn out by hungry shark”

Nervously I pulled my bikini bums to the side, defecated like a mad woman and then quickly swam away from the offending shark food.

I came out of the water feeling relieved, mortified and a tad corrupted. FH even had the common sense to look suitably impressed.

I sat on the picnic blanket and we chatted for a while about love, life and all things non Aqua.

Nek minute..

FH had his hands inside the picnic bag fumbling with something. Out pops his hand with a diamond sparkler, his eyes get a little misty and he pops the question

“Will you marry me?”

Holy Aqua Batman! Of course I said yes and cried the tears of a sober, pregnant, recently ocean pooping emotional woman.

Pretty much the next sentence out of my mouth was

“If you ever tell another soul about my Aqua though, I’ll seriously kill you”

Ain’t love grand?

It’s been 11 years and 3 kids since I fed the sharks at Windang on the South Coast now. Why not share this simple Australian story of poop and love with my friends?


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When you look back at Mum photos

January 25, 2018

This is still one of my favourite photos.

I was dead tired, had just popped my boob out of M3’s ALWAYS hungry mouth, I was wearing a breastfeeding singlet, a pair of granny undies, a fuzzy dressing gown (like I was in an episode of Coronation Street) my other two were vying for attention and I remember wanting to put my husband’s testicles in a vice for taking a photo when I thought I looked like shit.

What an idiot I was.

All I see now is a an incredibly tired woman who was – and indeed still is – hopelessly and utterly in love with her family. What an incredibly beautiful moment in time to remind me ❤️

I truly wish I’d let the Husband take 100’s more like it.


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The friend cleanse

January 23, 2018

I saw this last night and absolutely loved the hell out of it.

I’ve been guilty of having friends that are bad for me and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone.

I call them Dream-stealers; you can be feeling great about yourself one minute, have a conversation with them the next and then somehow you end up feeling like someone has taken a big wet icky dump on your good mood.

You feel bad and you have no idea why.

I’m pretty sure we keep toxic friends around because we’re just too scared to let them go. Maybe they’ve been in your life for so long that it’s more of a bad habit or you feel it’s a numbers game and still want to be a popular kid.

It does seem kinda crazy to keep people – especially other Mums – around that make you feel inadequate. Whether it be the subtle digs for your parenting skills, your house, job, weight, relationship, they think you’re not funny enough or they simply make you feel like you’re not fucking good enough. It seems crazy to keep that sort of rubbish around doesn’t it?

Shouldn’t we just surround ourselves with people that are good for the soul? Indeed as an actual freaking adult, isn’t that something we deserve?

I would suggest grabbing a great big broomstick and sweeping the rubbish out of your friendship closet. Just keep the ones that are honest, reliable, drop the f-bombs in good fun and drink bubbles with you. The ones that have your back no matter what and will actually call you a twatwaffle to your face 😂

It can hurt like a bastard to have a friend cleanse, but sometimes we just need to ‘shake it off’ (thanks Taylor Swift for making me sing your frigging song now)

‘Cause you know what? Aside from a loving family, some great friends and bubbles in the fridge…what else do you really need in this life?



(Faaaaaaaaaark, I can’t stop!
“And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake”

Taylor Swift stop writing freaking catchy get in your head tunes) ❤️


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Medical idiocy

January 20, 2018

There’s a whole lot abut me that screams conservative.

Sure, at times I’ve been known to liberally sprinkle the word ‘fuck’ throughout my adult conversations, I sometimes do 67 in a 60 zone, I’ve sometimes even popped off in public and blamed an elderly pensioner…but am I the kind of gal that could have maybe done a role in a porn movie in my 20’s????

Ummmmm, no…

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve shagged my fair share in my single days, I’ve smoked approximately 7 joints (and fell asleep after giggling for 10 minutes) had my fanny steamed, my bits waxed/tweezered/lasered, I enjoy alcohol tremendously and live the life…but ultimately I’m a bit of a nerd-burger.

How much of a nerd-burger you ask?

My husband can ask the kids a question to test their general knowledge and I’ll quickly jump in before them with the answer. Life’s a competition kids and your mother’s a winning Family Feud, Sale of the Century, Who Wants to be a Millionaire and Funk ‘N Wagnalls freaking Guru.

So I have no fucking idea what was going through my mind when I had an MRI this afternoon.. Obviously it’s all magneticy type radiation boohoohaa burn your boobies off scary stuff, so they have to ask you questions for safety precautions yada yada yada.

The problem I have is that I get nervous in front of medical people. I’ve seen enough episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and House to be a classically trained Radiologist/Brain Surgeon/GP and understand that bad shit can happen. For this very reason I question everything I’ve ever done in my life – just in case I’ve forgotten something and they’ll have to accidentally kill me because I forgot a minor detail.

Who wants to guest star in that episode?

So they asked me things like:

“Have you removed all of your piercings?”

I felt stressed. What fucking piercings would I have aside from a conservative gold pair of studs in my ears? And yet, my brain started going “oooooh…have I forgotten that I may have accidentally had a clitoral piercing when I was 21? Did I forget that there was a shiny drop diamond and ruby belly ring that I might have inadvertently both forgotten AND left in? Did I even ever attach any nipple clamps?

Jesus, I’d hate to be In this machine and have my entire clitoris ripped off because I forgot my Virgin Mary skull piercing was still in.


“What about any shrapnel in your body?”


“Ummmm, thanks for asking, there was a little bit of leftover shrapnel that Hawkeye and BJ Hunnicut forgot to remove while I was recuperating at the 4077… but I’m pretty sure i’m all good now.

What about any other implants etc…?

Omg, there was once a vibrator that was really small that resembled a bullet, but surely that can’t stay in there for that long? I actually looked down to visualise….I mean, I’ve had three kids since then and surely someone would have noticed? I’ve also had a penis firmly implanted in there, but again – pretty sure the husband would have noticed leaving something like that behind.

I also thought about getting some new boobs once but I didn’t so there really shouldn’t be any reason to mention them…

So…ummm no to the implants.

I jokingly asked the red headed MRI operator if everyone panics and thinks about this sort of stuff before they go inside. He did that odd sort off “you’re an idiot” smile and said, “ah, sure…sometimes I guess”

Meredith Grey would have humoured me you bloody ranga..just sayin’

Does anyone else’s mind get a little weird about things like this?

NB: surprisingly no painkillers were taken prior to writing this 🖕😂😜


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Kids and screen time

January 17, 2018

What do you think?

My son asked me when he’d be getting a mobile phone.

I didn’t think I’d heard correctly so responded with a raised eyebrow “sorry honey, what did you say?”
“When will I be getting a mobile phone?”
And I replied with
“When you’re old enough to get a job and pay for it yourself”
“Ok” he said and went outside to practice his cricket bowling agaInst the garage wall.

Ummmmmm…my son is my oldest kid and is only 9 (ok, nearly 10) years of age.

Nearly 10.

What the fuck does he need a mobile phone for? Just in case he needs to call an Uber or swipe left or right for a suitable 9 year old girlfriend who’s into sport and loves puppies? To find out what some nasty little dickburger has written about him just to be a mean little shit?

I don’t fucking think so.

To be honest, I think he just felt obliged to ask as he’s hearing other people are buying their kids mobiles. I just read that 20% of 10 year old kids in Australia have mobile phones and this number skyrockets to 75% of 12 year olds.

75%. WTAF?

Am I missing something here? Am I being a tightwad hippy, fun hating, nerd reducing, dick-twaddle of a parent by thinking it’s completely un-fucking-necessary for kids to have a mobile? Am I in fact turning into one of those judgie mcjudgies that I can’t stand? It’s a definite possibility I guess.

A few years ago my husband (and read the whole statement before you freak out) said:
“You have to treat our kids like you would a farm dog, keep ’em busy, feed them, run them all day and put them to bed” To be honest, I was mortified at him for saying this until he went on to explain “kids are supposed to be busy…they wake up every day looking for things to do – if we don’t exhaust them by getting them outside, taking them fishing, kicking balls, swimming, camping, throwing rocks etc…what will they do? Sit open mouthed in front of the tv? It’s no life for a kid sitting inside. It’s our job to get ’em out there and get them amongst it. They’ll keep out of trouble that way and be way too exhausted to be little shits”

Idle hands and all that stuff.

Please don’t get me wrong, we of course let our kids watch tv and we’ve been guilty of letting it keep them busy so we can have some parent time. My parents did the same (Mr Squiggle was my creepy idol) so we could all have the luxury of uninterrupted conversations, a minute to think or just some time for ourselves.

Jesus, I can still sing pretty much every The Wiggles song ( the original members only, I’m a purist) and don’t even get me started on my love of Thomas the Tank Engine. Nowadays my favourites are those twin slightly sexy nerdy Doctors Dr Chris & Dr Xand on Operation Ouch (it’s amazing how much snot we generate in our lifetime – who knew!) and Deadly 60 with the fabulous Steve with his excitement about all things that could kill you. So yeah… I’m guilty as hell too of screen time for my kids and for this middle aged Mumma

I worry sometimes that it’s a losing battle, especially when we have to buy Master 9 an IPad for school this year. We’ll try incredibly hard to be super strict and make it for school use only…all the while trying to continue the whole treat them like farm dogs philosophy.

So for now we’ll just make them wait a while longer before we start giving them access to their own screen time – like when they get out of the frigging monastery/convent when they turn 45.

I think I prefer a kid covered in dirt than one with a slack jaw and glazed eyes.

Just remember, before he died, Apple co-founder Steve Jobs wonderfully answered a question from a reporter who asked him ‘What do your children think about the new iPad?’

His answer?

“they wouldn’t know” because they’re banned in his house

Makes you think huh?

What are your thoughts?


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for Medicinal purposes only

January 16, 2018

By no means do I advocate the use of drugs. But right now, I’m completely off my chops on painkillers from a back injury.

I’ve had 2 x Endone and an assortment of other drugs that would make me popular on some seedy street corners. My kids suddenly make me giggle in between my moans that would make a porn star proud.

I literally just stared at an ant for five minutes and felt sorry for it.

I waited in bed until I was full to the eyeballs with my own pee as I was too scared to get out of bed due to the pain. I peed in the shower like a racehorse and then giggled for five minutes.

Off my chops.

Eating toast and thinking it’s hilarious that black shit (Vegemite) with a slab of butter on toast makes me feel proud to be Australian. Then I remember I have Aboriginal heritage and get cranky when I can’t remember if I’ve ever felt the need to go on a Walkabout. I would now but my back hurts and I wouldn’t get too far.

I also have Scottish heritage which is why I’m as pale as a freaking block of vanilla ice cream. Maybe I could find some bagpipes and give that a red hot go too.


My eyes are getting really heavy and I need to go back to bed. First I have this ridiculous desire to put all the dirty dishes in the sink but I think I’m trying to write cheques my body can’t be arsed to cash.

I nearly passed out on the toilet yesterday… not for dramatic effect but just sitting down puts pressure on my back. I’m also incredibly pleased that painkillers block you up because how the hell can you poo in this condition??

Random thought…


I can’t remember what it was.

I love my husband and the kids, but now it’s also with a wild drug induced passion. I would forgive pretty much anything now because he’s been so fucking amazing letting me use him as a crane when I weigh the same as a small baby elephant. Then I think, fark, hang on a minute. You’re a fireman. You have to lift people like me anyway and you get paid for it.

And I’ll pay him in favours the big spunk of burning love… eventually.

Moral of my stoned story? Do Pilates and get your core sorted. Get yourself some amazing friends that you can cry to and some amazeballs family you can rely on.

The idea of getting a cortisone injection this afternoon scares the shizen out of me but it’s my own stupid fault for not listening to the warning signals – AGAIN!

For the love of God and all things Adam Levine, DON’T put any sympathy messages in the comment section . I don’t want your sympathy…I just wanted to tell you why I haven’t written for a while. If any of you write “poor you blah blah” messages it’ll make me feel like one of those fuck-knuckles that write passive aggressive sympathy seeking things like “oooh, im in so much pain” or “oooh, off to the hospital again” without any fucking explanation. They just want people to go all gooey and worry about them.


Screw that.

Can you maybe just write a joke, a funny gif or just use some naughty swear words in the comments to give me a chuckle? That would really rock. The dumber the better.

Right now I’m having a chuckle at the fan in our bedroom for going so slow.

What the actual fuck?


Shannon’s Kitchen you’re the funniest girl I fan girl over, don’t suppose you can give me a decent penis joke?

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Men v’s women shopping

January 12, 2018

My husband shopping for groceries without the kids:

Walks in, buys 12 things.

Walks out.

Me shopping for groceries without the kids:

“ooooh, I might just pop into Kmart before I go grocery shopping and look around”

Fills shopping trolley and spends $98.55 on things that I convinced myself we needed.

New framed print for miss 8? Don’t mind if I. A new pillow for
Miss 6 that is glittery and changes colour when you rub it? Ummmmmmm, yes.

I meander my way to the car eyeing off make-up I don’t need, smelling candles I won’t buy and staring at bikinis my lard arse no longer fits into.

I drop the first trolley at the car while shaking my head to three people in cars waiting for my car park. The first two drivers are male and get cranky, and the third driver is female and just nods understandably when I mouth “I’m going back in” and drives off with a smile and a wave.

I head back in with an empty trolley and head directly to Woolies as I’ve been gone for an hour.

I start in fruit and veg section while trying to remember the price of strawberries and blueberries at the fruit market I just walked past. Stand there for two minutes straining my hopeless memory… mmmmmm.

Keep going and fill the trolley with the 23 items the husband missed, while adding 18 that weren’t on my list ( they were on sale, how could I not???) I line up for checkout and read the back 4 pages of a gossip mag – I didn’t realise Kim Kardashians arse was that big now (its fake yeah?) and get bill shock at the receipt.

Duck into fruit and veg shop to buy the strawberries, blueberries and then the carrots and sweet potato I forgot.

And eggs.

And raspberries as they’re on sale and I hate buying them at $2,189 a punnett.

Make it outside and realise I don’t have any wine at home. Duck into shop of wine dreams (aka Liquorland) and pick up two bottles of chardonnay. Ring husband and ask if he needs beer. On my way to beer cool room notice that Brown Brothers Prosecco is on sale. “Oooooh, I should really buy that too”

Little conscientious money saver I am.

Get to counter with trolley and see the ‘spend $30 and you can have any of these for $10 sign’

“Oooh, I might try these thingy and something Ciders too please”

Bargains galore.

I finally make it out to the car and see a car with a female driver waiting for my car park. I mouth “won’t be long” and point to my trolley. She winds down her window and says

“Take your time, I’m shopping without my kids so I’m in no hurry”

Make it home, throw receipts in bin and make dinner.

Life is good.

Woolworths Brown Brothers Winery Kmart Australia


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Subtle hints from the husband

January 19, 2018

My stupid back has been out for two weeks now so the spunky Husband has really stepped up his game.

He’s been a complete freaking champion: making dinners, shopping, keeping the kids entertained, cleaning… he’s been a non-stop hardworking lovin’ ‘n carin’ parenting machine.


Nek minute…he leaves little hints around the house about what he’s looking forward to when I get better.

It’s his version of a get well soon card 😂


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Things I love

Fairy tales part 2

January 7, 2018

No wonder there’s no part two to Disney Princess stories.

Here’s my thoughts on how life is going for our fave girl Cinderella.

Cinderella part 2 opening sequence:

Cinderella: FFS Prince Charming…it’s school holidays, can’t you take the kids out for the day so that I can have a break? I’m going fucking mental.

Prince Charming: seriously Cinds, I’ve worked all day doing Princey type stuff and I’m knackered. It’s not like looking after kids is difficult anyway.

Cinderella: What the actual FU*K did you just say? Oh, don’t even bother yourself then you absolute fu*king knob jockey. It’s not like I haven’t been a slave my whole fu*king life anyway

Narrator: and it was at that moment that both Cinderella and Prince Charming knew he wouldn’t be getting a shag anytime soon

Seriously, I could write the whole movie.

Tune in tomorrow for the opening scene of Snow White Part 2.


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Rock Star Mums Drink Champagne

I need a new book title

January 5, 2018

Help needed!

I was thinking about writing a book called “Hapless Hints for the Slapper Boozehound Mother” but realised that

a) it’s probably not a great title
b) I’m probably the last person you’d go to for advice
c) I have no actual decent hints aside from:

Sometimes your kids will be a-holes

Sometimes you’ll be an a-hole

Sometimes your husband/partner will be an a-hole

Sometimes other Mums will be a-holes

Your neighbour can hear you yelling so a low death stare and arm pinch can be just as effective

Wine is a great substitute for everything

Vodka is a great substitute for everything

Housework is overrated

You need at least two friends you can ring and cry to. These friends should also just respond by saying “they’re all a-holes, I’ll bring bubbles”

Your kids will love you no matter what.

Trackie dacks and ponytails are suitable attire

Sometimes you’ll cry/laugh so much that you’ll piddle your pants

Losing your shit doesn’t make you a bad mother – It makes you a normal mother

Your love for your family is all that really matters

Hiding in your wardrobe/pantry/car to eat chocolate is perfectly acceptable

You’ll gain weight and your boobs will droop. Just tweak yourself a little lower and all will be well in the world

When all else fails, lock yourself in the loo for a time-out while you’re waiting for your friends to arrive with booze

That’s pretty much it.

That’s a book right there yeah? There’s at least 2 pages if I double space the list 😂

Any other hints I’ve missed?

Let me know xx


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