Farewell Grandma

Last week I got a phone call I knew I would have to face some day: My Grandma Francisca had died.Stuck on the other side of the world the only contribution I could make to her funeral were a bunch of flowers and a few heartfelt words. It didn't feel like enough, not to mark such an extraordinary life, and had there been more space on my Interflora card, I would have filled it with these words.My grandma was an extraordinary woman, born and raised in a time of chaos:...more

Raising An Activist: A Letter To My Son

There is a running joke in our house that my son is destined to be an accountant: Not because of his freakish ability to do mental arithmetic but because he rejects every attempt to fill his life with awesome in favour of being painfully sensible. In the 4 years and 9 months since his birth, my son has been on 5 protest marches. That’s one more than I have managed in 36 years. He enjoys the chanting, and he is happy to hold signs, but you can tell his heart isn't really in it. You could say that he’s humouring us....more

My Daughter's First Crush

I've been blind-sided by a life first I thought was many years in the future: My daughter, at the tender age of 2 years and 9 months, is in the throes of her very first crush.My son had a school friend over to play and no sooner had he come through the door when my little girl had attached herself to his side.For the entire afternoon, her voice could be heard in a constant stream of informative updates on what she was doing, and questions to him about what he was doing. At one point, she declared her love for him....more

Is Instagram the Modern Mother’s Little Helper?

​There is a lot to thank social media for when it comes to the raising of children; the support, the information, the near constant photography. I’ll freely admit it: I’m thankful for the advent of apps like Instagram: For a mama like me, it’s a total game changer when it comes to housework. When I was young, if we wanted to share the moment that our babies took their first faltering steps across the lounge floor, we had to stick our heads out of the front door and shout at Peggy across the road to stop hanging out her washing and come see....more

Baby Wearing And The Timid Toddler

Have you heard the one about spoiling your children by carrying them too much? Me too....more

Yoga Poses for Babies

Wednesday night in our house is couples yoga night – oh yes twenty-something me, this is what your future holds – but don’t go making assumptions, it’s probably one of the funniest evenings of the week. The funnies come from having found an amazing yogi who sings frickin LION KING songs when she demonstrates positions, but mostly, it comes from my daughter....more

Baking With Small Children

It’s a testament to my optimistic nature, the triumph of imagination over reality, but somehow I forget that baking with a two year old is a really stupid idea.  It has glimpses of awesome, moments where I wrinkle my nose at the sight of my child stirring resolutely with a spoon as long as her arm, but mostly there is stress, and the ever increasing desire to scream into a tea towel. Last Sunday, when Keith and Alfie went to a birthday party, I decided to take Esme and Miss Olive shopping for a few essentials and get our bake on....more

Introspection

The Illogical World of High-End Babywearing

Have you ever been smitten by something that made no sense? The kind of smitten where you see something and every logical thought you have says that it’s not a good fit for you, not a good use of money, and yet .... and yet. That was my relationship with a woven wrap I first saw about a year ago. It was a one off, never to be produced, money can’t buy, thanks anyway, move along please. ...more
Jessica Rachel O I sent my stretchy wrap to a friend last year  because mine were all too big ...more

The Carpet Picnic (with Sweetcorn Fritters)

Once you have moved to a country that boasts outdoor living, it is really hard to admit that for a few months of the year, the living is best kept inside, where there are fires and a distinct lack of Antarctic winds. The children, being 50% mule and 50% whirling dervish, are even more reluctant to give up on the idea of eating at the beach. That is, right up until the point where we are eating on the beach and they realise that we weren’t lying about the Antarctic winds....more