The ‘Oven’

I’m often asked if how I feel about my eight year old Master M is any ‘different’ to how I feel about my biological kids. The answer is a resounding no. I carried him but he isn’t my child biologically. My partner at the time went through IVF and had her eggs removed, fertilised with … Continue reading The ‘Oven’

So Many Baskets

“When it comes to generating writing material, teenagers are gold. Their world is a narcissistic, anarchic, paranoid hell of anxieties and stresses about how they look; how popular they are or aren’t; and how fast or slowly, big or small their private parts are growing […] Lifts and pocket money aside, teenagers crave privacy – … Continue reading So Many Baskets

Drug of Choice

Parenting is a drug. The highs are amazing, euphoric even. The lows: the worst come down ever. Nothing makes you confront your own feelings of inadequacy and fractures your sense of self-worth like a teenager with a bee in his (or her) bonnet. That same being you held to your breast and nurtured, that you … Continue reading Drug of Choice

Modern Family

Not everyone who wants to be a mother wants to carry a baby. For some women, that urge to physically grow another human never arrives; however the desire to be a mother does. The ‘maternal instinct’ comes in many forms, and is different for everyone. It is a spectrum – with those like me, who … Continue reading Modern Family

Ready or Not

We received an invitation for Master Z ‘and his family’ to have afternoon tea with the local member on Wednesday afternoon to celebrate his receiving a ‘Local Sporting Champion’ grant. He’s had a great year with his sport, playing hockey at National level plus State level for both club and school hockey. Initially, I felt … Continue reading Ready or Not

Party of Five

  It’s 4am and I can’t sleep. Miss L, who is one, has had an unsettled night and is currently occupying my side of the bed. She is a terrible, restless sleeper and she has been ‘spoilt’ by being allowed to sleep against me since birth. I know, I know, I can sense the eye … Continue reading Party of Five