The smell of stability is intoxicating, the drive home toward home from the airport on the smooth, well connected roads encouraging a sense of security that was missing during my time away
Read more Thoughts on Australia after 8 months living abroad.
...I turn from a mother with inexhaustible patience and an interest in alternative parenting, to one who almost wants to smack her child on the bottom, throw him in his room, lock the door and make herself an espresso martini.
I would like to acknowledge that I personally recognise that there exist perhaps three different “types” of people, each of them with a different opinion on what one should do when faced with a scenario comprised of turmoil. In context, the turmoil adheres when the life of an animal is compromised. And by animal I…
When we left for Paris on April first, our son Arlo was one year and 11 months old. The style of parenting Shane and I had been attempting to adopt up until that point was based on a fair chunk of reading we’d done, with foundations of Magda Gerber’s RIE parenting strategies, and Jennifer Percy’s…
Paris in late August has indeed a very different feel to it this time around. The afternoon skies, having breached the morning a deep blue, have a summer haze – wisps of cloud giving some respite from that blazing ball of fire in the sky. Parisians are more relaxed; (or are they tourists?) the holidays,…
It’s quite common practice, in Australia, that when one female is enjoying the summer sunshine by the ocean, she will conservatively be wearing a two piece swim suit, covering both boobies and below. More exotic and daring it is, to have sacrificed the top piece in order to encourage that highly esteemed all-over tan. Customary practice,…
Did that title grab your attention? It doesn’t mean what you first thought. This post discusses what could be seen as a French Tradition, and starts with the cultural aspect of French people kissing each other. You kiss someone when you meet for the first time, and then you kiss again before leaving. I don’t…
Every Sunday for the last two point five months has been “moving day.” We have been shuffling around France in our little Berly Car (a Citroën Berlingo) with the majority of items belonging to Arlo (pram {do not travel with this one} bag of books, bag of toys, scooter, snow toboggan, etc) from Paris heading…
I began writing this post before Coles and Woolworths got with the times and deleted plastic bags from free supply at their stores, so the first part is from a few months back. Now, being in France and seeing what they’re doing here to minimise their global footprint, I feel more of a sense of judgement…
It’s funny, thinking back to when we were kids. Unconsciously taking each moment as it came, not worried that standing in the rain would make our clothes wet and we’d be cold later, or that too many cupcakes would head straight to our thighs, and never second guessing that the people around us had anything but unqualified…
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