Veronica1211

Look! Look at what my father did for us today. Before: What you can’t see in this photo are the scratches, pockmarks, holes and stains in the laminate surface. You also can’t see that it’s way too short to work at comfortably. This is what we have now, care of a piece of pine from my uncle and an awful lot of work from my father. After: Now we just need to reline the kitchen, paint the godawful purple and replace the cupboard doors. Eventually. Read Full Story

Firstly, there is this: It’s the first day back at school for Tasmanian children and I am excited to have a few hours of relative freedom today (Isaac excepted). Drop off went well, as I suspected it would. Now we just wait to see how things go. And then there is a reminder to never work with children, if you’d like to get photos of new clothes, as sent by a company. There was grumpiness, and sulking and possibly a little bit of foot stomping. Also tears, because I insisted that... Read Full Story

I’ve been resisting writing this post for a long time, but here it is. I was a teen mother and pregnant as a teenager twice. Amy was born when I was 17 and Isaac was conceived when I was 19, and born two months after I turned 20. There is my bias, disclosed. When you are pregnant as a teenager, you are subjected to a certain amount of harsh treatment. This is deemed acceptable by society, apparently, because no one disagreed with family acquaintances calling me a slut and no one... Read Full Story

My children have an obsession with Peppa Pig. This pink, snorting, grunting, talking pig, has invaded our house. It started with the very occasional showing on ABC4Kids. Then, they discovered ABC4Kids online and spent hours watching the same episodes, turning the computer back on, every time I turned it off and hiding in corners with my Tablet. Then they started to act out the episodes. This is including, but not limited to: Giant chunks of Peppa Pig, repeated over and over... Read Full Story

Amy has a minor speech impediment that sometimes makes some of her words “muddy”. As her parents, this amuses Nathan and I to no end. ——— Amy: “I am the Fighting Girl!” [pretend punching at her brother] Me: “You’re the what? The farting girl?” Amy: “NO! I’m the Amazing FIGHTING girl!” Me: “The Amazing Farting girl?” Amy: “NO! FIGHTING. FIGHTING!” Me: “Farting?” Amy: “FIGHTING!” Amy: “Hmmmmph. Now I’m the Annoyed Girl.” I can’t stop laughing... Read Full Story

Last year, I spent some time seeing a pain management team, which included a pain management physio. This was a SPECTACULARLY crappy experience , ending with me being handballed off to a psychologist before my physio would work with me again. Of course, I’ve since finished therapy, having worked out that my feelings of anxiety and impending doom are actually a physiological problem, not a psychological one. Basically this means that I’m fucked, but that it’s my screwed up nervous system’s... Read Full Story

I write here, a lot. In fact, WordPress tells me that I have published 1061 (now 1062) posts here in the last four and a half years. Hundreds of thousands of words, hundreds upon hundreds of stories. But some things are not my story to tell and so I walk away from the computer, tired with real life and unable to sink into storytelling like I otherwise might. There’s things going on at the moment, family things, and while I could blog them if I get permission (and may, yet), it’s Nathan’s... Read Full Story

Pinterest seems to be the new OMG HAVE YOU SEEN IT thing lately, which, okay, fine. It took me a while to get into it and then only a few moments to forget about it again. This probably says more about how my brain works than any particular thing wrong with the premise of Pinterest. I’m not a designer home kind of girl and pretty things usually just make me grumpy that my house is falling down and my finances are limited at best. Every few weeks though, I would click through to Pinterest... Read Full Story

I just shouted at my daughter for chopping a lemon into pieces with a fileting knife. While I’m proud that she didn’t chop her fingers off, I’m rather unimpressed that she destroyed my next-to-last lemon. At the same time, Isaac ran away outside, holding a bowl of water and pretending he didn’t hear me asking him to lay down and get changed. Again. I’ve got no idea what he is doing with the bowl. For that matter, I’ve got no idea why Amy wanted a lemon. Considering they’ve decided to... Read Full Story

No. Apparently the dirty washing pile is the best place for a nap. He slept for almost two hours. Read Full Story