One Back-Handed Compliment at a Time

Have you ever woken up at 2am and realised you had said something really stupid the day before? The type of thing where you start worrying about how the other person must be thinking of you, because you really put your foot in it? The kind where you literally can’t go back to sleep?

Yeah, me neither.

But damn – I wish this 10-fold on the lovely lady in my yoga class today.

Today is Baby-Yoga day. While the older boys are teaching at school, I take Zaltu to Yoga to help her chill out. She’s 14 mths old – and trust me; she needs to CTFO.

So there we are, sitting around the circle. Waiting to start.

And the woman next to me, watching Zaltu, says ” oh, she’s beautiful!! Are you her nanny?”

Why, thankyou. I think. But I’m her mother.

“Really? Because she looks nothing like you.”


Well, um. Thanks. But she’s definitely my daughter. I was there and all.

“Oh wow. She must really look like her father then.”


At this point I’m thinking I’m the only one hearing this. That is, until the woman on the other side of me snorts while trying to smother a laugh.

Let’s cut back to the first woman and see if she’s realised.

Nope. She’s still looking from Zaltu to me, shaking her head.

Screw you, yoga bitch. I hope it hits you at 2am.


Round 3: EG Mum v Sinister

I was schooled by Sinister today. And deservedly so.

It was on the daily walk to school. The usual reminders were being discussed.

* Don’t steal other lunches – hungry minions are unreliable;
* Never admit to anything until you know they definitely have evidence against you (that’s how I was tricked into Class Parent – volunteering before my time);
* And always go to the toilet at the beginning of lunch – NOT AFTER the year 6 boys. Trust me on this one.

Poor Zaltu was in the stroller today, rather than toddling along at her usual speed (slow). The poor thing had her demonic wings clipped; high chance she has Chicken Pox and has been absolutely miserable since. Her only comfort has been breastfeeding and holding onto her plush Batman. Often at the same time.

At this point, we spied a young woman walk past, wearing a t-shirt with the bat-signal.

In an attempt to cheer her up, I said “Hey Zaltu. Look! Its Batman!”

And Sinister pipes up with:

“Really mum? Why isn’t it Batgirl? Isn’t Batgirl your fave?”

Holy shitballs, minions. The Spawnling was absolutely correct.

Not only had I fallen into the stereotypical trap of thinking only of Batman, but I had also completely ignored that I, a female, was pointing out to my Spawnling, a female, a bat-shirt worn by A FEMALE.

Nevermind the fact that Barbara Gordon is so much better than Bruce.

So yes. I was wrong. Sinister was right. And I was schooled.

But I can’t help feeling that my parenting was the winner after all. Equality has a chance in the next generation.

Solitary Confinement

There is a reason why isolation is used as a form of punishment. It really messes with your head.

Ask any parent awake at 2am.

When you hear that first cry awaken you – a gentle plea for comfort; a territorial demand for a nipple; the frightened scream not yet fully awake; or my personal favourite right now – the painful moaning of a sick Spawnling just wanting their mum.

No matter the sound, you’re awake. And your praying to whichever deity is awake with you to make this session short.

It’s dark outside. Really dark. The kind of dark that makes you question if this is the end of the world. But it’s not.

So you go through the motions. Check nappy. Change nappy. Cuddle. Feed.

Except … She doesn’t go back to sleep. Not even close.

Don’t do it… No, don’t… Don’t look outside… Noooo

Aw crap. It’s still dark outside.

And then it hits – the wave of loneliness.

You could ask your Partner In Crime for help. But there is a feeling of guilt stopping you – they have to go to work in the morning, and only one parent-zombie at any given time. Ridiculous – of course they would help. But this is 2.30am. The Dungeon of Ridiculous.

Change sides. Cuddle. Feed. Yawn so wide you could swallow your ears.

Please go to sleep. My eyes are watering from fatigue, baby. Why are you punishing me?

I am the only one awake right now.

I am all alone.

No. You’re not.

You can’t see it, But on the other side of the street is a dad with a 6mth old, changing their nappy for the 3rd time this hour – more desperation for that to be the reason rather than anything else.

In the apartment block behind you, a new mum with a 4wk old cannot remember the “routine” for getting bubs back to sleep.

And down the road, is a 10yo with full-sensory nightmares who is scared of waking his older brother because he has exams tomorrow.

You are not alone. It feels like it because that is the most mind-fucking punishment that works. And these spawnlings are good.

But sometimes we need reminding. And it’s hard. When you are so tired, and so frustrated and you feel so alone…

You are not alone. Your child is there with you. And the sun will rise again.

I Want A … Scorpion Chair

It is important to decorate your Evil Genius Lair with both style and functionality.


When I do my “world domination” thinking, I need to be comfortable. My body needs to be nestled, supported, comforted; otherwise my mind will be too distracted to predict the spawnlings’ next move.

But at the same time, my chair needs to look the part. I need to visualise the depth of destruction I can rain upon mere minions. I need to feel the dark power coursing up my spine and feeding my thoughts of tyranny and dictatorship.

While many may think this is the chair for such moments in history, sadly it is not:


Alas, my torso is rather compact, compared with ever-reaching lengths I can attain to prevent my spawnlings from … Well, anything. In fact, the back of this is very straight and inclined to push me forward in any dictatorial meetings.

No, I want this:


Look at the smooth lines, curving with the natural flow of your body. See the menacing power draw upon the imagery to extend above the person resting there. Feel the awe and fear you could exert from this chair.

Yes. This is my new throne. Make it so.

Delivery acceptable Monday to Thursday, 10am to 2pm.