Prelude: This is the third instalment in my Diary Of My Miscarriage Series. This series was going to be the “Diary Of My Pregnancy” however, as we know, things don’t always turn out how we hope, do they? I began this series before we knew our baby was lost, and this is the first week when I really start to feel like something could potentially be wrong… And it was. These instalments from when I thought I was still pregnant are just as important to me as the miscarriage itself, and as such, I feel compelled to share them with you. Thank you for reading them x (more…)
Diary Of My Miscarriage – Week Seven
Prelude: This is the second instalment in my Diary Of My Miscarriage Series. This series was going to be the “Diary Of My Pregnancy” however, as we know, things don’t always turn out how we hope, do they? I began this series before we knew our baby was lost, and they represent so much joy and hope for 0ur family. These instalments from when I was still pregnant are as important to me as the miscarriage itself, and as such, I feel compelled to share them with you. Thank you for reading them x (more…)
Diary Of My Miscarriage – Weeks Four To Six
Prelude: This is the first instalment in my Diary Of My Miscarriage Series. This series was going to be the “Diary Of My Pregnancy” however, as we know, things don’t always turn out how we hope, do they? I began this series before we knew our baby was lost, and they represent so much joy and hope for 0ur family. These instalments from when I was still pregnant are as important to me as the miscarriage itself, and as such, I feel compelled to share them with you. Thank you for reading them x (more…)
Black Injustice. I am so so so sorry.
I AM SO SO SO SORRY.I haven’t said anything about black injustice. And today I realized why. And the why of it is, that I am ignorant AF. Probably disgustingly so. Please, just hear me out. (more…)
Nine Things That Every New Mum Needs
Becoming a new mum is one of the most wonderful and yet most challenging times of a women’s life. The excitement. The joy. The new baby smell. Actually no, scrap that. Sometimes babies don’t smell that great… Let’s be honest, I mean they essentially smell like stale cheese for a couple of weeks, at least until they start opening their stinky baby hands once in a while to air them out. #Truth (more…)
Why Parenting Is So Hard Sometimes
Do you ever have those days where parenting is just too hard? Or when you want to stay in bed, in your pyjama’s (or out of them… wink wink nudge n-nope who am I kidding I’m way too tired for that lol), and just brain fade away into zombie-rest-ville watching Netflix on the couch? Yes? Oh good, me too. Like, every-single-day-me-too. (more…)
Diary Of A Crazy Baby – 2 Years Old.
Well. That’s it. I am a huge ball of emotion today as I write this. Because my sweet baby girl has now turned two, and all I can say about that is sniffle sniffle sniffle. Sob Sob Sob. (more…)
Why Are Four Year Olds So Crazy
So this week I’m writing about something that I don’t normally write about with such grumpy focus. And that is my four-year-old son. Lately I have been writing quite a bit about my daughter. I have been documenting her crazy tiny antics in a monthly diary – Diary Of A Crazy Baby (click here to read all of the instalments). And that meant I had been ignoring what would actually be an epic saga titled “Why Are Four Year Olds So Crazy”. (more…)
Diary Of A Crazy Baby – 22 Months Old… I think.
You know when you get to that point – when you are so close to two years old that you start forgetting what “month” you are up to? Yerrrrp, that is me right now. I keep forgetting how old my baby is. She is errrrrm… something years old. Or… um… she is … um… getting older months old. Yes. That’s it. Oooh, sorry, I honestly don’t know anymore. *throws hands confusedly into the air*. (more…)
Body Confidence and Boys Nudie Runs
Today I want to talk about two things. They may sound unrelated, but I promise you they totally are. I want to talk about body confidence and boys nudie runs. When I was growing up I remember how the local boys at parties used to get around, be silly, and do nudie runs. Oh what bogans, I thought, without realising at the time that I was a bit of a Queen Bogan myself. (more…)