Got my shit together??????

So, what does it take to feel like you have your shit together?

Leaving the house with knickers that match your bra or  just leaving the house with knickers.........

Is it having your nails done? clean sheets on your bed? picking up your floordrobe so that all the dust bunnies are set free??

I had a day of forced organisation today. My grandmother has relocated back to Portugal. Today I transported a car full of 27 years worth of kitchen goods, jars, tupperware, cookware etc.

My pantry has never contained a labelled jar, my tupperware has always bred lids for no containers and my pots go where they fit, anytime, anywhere.

Not anymore, I have tupperware up the wazoo, labelled glass jars, I have cooked ahead meals for the week and made layered salads for my lunches, I even have a labelled jar of smoked paprika for christs sake.


I think this classifies as having my shit together... I just have to invite everyone to my kitchen to prove it...

Things I said that I deserved a punch in the head for.... A tribute to Mothers Day

As Mothers Day fast approaches, the following statements were my pearls of wisdom prior to having kids....


I'm never giving my future child junk food. I could make a much better "Happy meal" at home.

I am going to take my baby with me everywhere. I'll strap them onto my chest and we will travel the world. We will be best friends.

I think I could probably home school my kids... they will be geniuses.

My kids won't be "Like That".

Being at home with the baby will be easy, I can study and start a whole new career.

I will make sure my child has started an instrument at 3. Its very good for their future development.

Treat them like adults, take them to fancy restaurants and cultural events and they will learn to behave correctly in these places.

I don't see how there can be that much difference between a cloth nappy and Huggies?

I dont think time out is necessary, surely you can just calm them down and explain?



BWHHAAAHAHAHAA.... aw I crack myself up.....

Reality was a very different thing. I honestly felt like I needed a standing ovation, trophy and a friggen scratch and sniff sticker every time we all left the house not covered in food /snot, with brushed teeth and pants.

There was a time, shortly after birth, alone in the dark pit of the very very early morning... when I realised just what a twat I had been.

If you haven't had kids yet but think you will... Shut up, just shut up and to all the Parents, Here is a trophy and applause!

It doesn't rain it hails a fiery shit storm

I am late for work, my cat does a massive chewed up mouse and fur spew on the carpet and I have no bread to make lunches so I fashion a sandwich like shape from mushed up rice bubbles.

It doesn't rain, it doesn't poor.... the shit hits the fan and the fan then falls on your head.

There is no coffee in the house, the toaster literally went up in flames and claimed the last hot cross bun as its sacrifice. The computer system at work fails and I am now officially in 1933 with a rubber stamp and that stupid purple paper stuff.

And Finally...

Work finished, my bus pulls up at my stop, 1st I drop my phone and my headphones are ripped from my ears and fling into my bra, promptly lodging themselves in my boobs with the force of bullets. While I am picking up my phone, I drop my smart rider and it flips down under the bus. While I am arse up trying to retrieve my smart rider, the shopping bag I am holding splits and the cans of instant icing I have just brought go rolling onto St Georges Tce.
The bus driver is holding back his laughter so hard I am pretty sure he tinkled. So now I have my hands full of icing tins and my smart rider is in my mouth, so I get on the bus, lean my face against the smart rider box thingy so it beeps and fall into the closest seat. In my head all I can hear is fucking applause.

This a true story, ok the toaster thing happened to a friend but the rest was all Caroline.


This blog is dedicated to a friend who is going through a much worse fiery shit storm. You are one of the strongest people I know. Keep on going x

Are We More Extreme?

This is an observation and not a judgment. I am very much a part of this too and a lot of cases it's an improvement. I am not against any of the things I am about to write...

Someone turned the volume up in the universe and it has been cranked up ever since.

We are pushing ourselves into extremes. Little extremes and big extremes.

Not "going to the gym" anymore. Not pregnancy anymore but fit mums and mums to be cross fitting with a six pack and a baby bump and running a marathon as soon as the stroller is delivered.

Not a lunch box for kids anymore but an extravaganza of Mummy creativeness complete with $6 worth of blueberries and a tofu sculpture.

Not food anymore or "on a diet". Now its a Paleo, clean eating or vegan, organic lifestyle changes. Super foods.

Not parenting anymore, but mindfulness, non gender stereo typing, free range, helicopter, unplugged parenting. With 1000 blogs for and against each one.

Not opinions and conversations but documented social media debates with selfie back up proof included.

Not beauty anymore, but sculpted, contoured, scraped and injected perfection.

Not famous anymore but super human, infallible, mythological creatures of dynastic proportions.

Not having a dream, but attending the next seminar while mindfully requesting the universe to fulfil your order of a Maserati.

Its not a house anymore. Its the tiny house, tree house, teepee, tent, camper trailer, off grid, no foot print home movement.

It seems to me sometimes, that the scale of normal has been stretched and snapped,

now normal is the new "New". Are we more extreme? 

Girls Can Be So Mean!

I have been home for 10 minutes. I have literally walked back in the door and had my youngest daughter grab my hand, pull me into my bedroom and shut the door. In a flood of tears she told me she was fat.

After a fair amount of coaxing, the story came out. A little friend of hers had pinched her waist and exclaimed "You're already fat!". To make matters worse, today was a "dress up" day. My daughter wore her most favourite and pretty dress, the one that gave her a little confidence in herself.

This blog is not to question wether or not she is fat and its also not to defend her or myself. IT DOESN"T MATTER.
The fact is, she is 8 and the sweetest, kindest, most mild and caring little girl. Not only that but she is very bright. I am so proud of her and in her private moments she is also a very special kind of funny. I love the fact that she reserves this special inner clown just for us, her loved ones, it is a real privilege. My daughter also loves to sing. She wakes up in the morning with a song and a little skip and dance. Everything is a musical to her. I pretty sure in her mind, life is a disney cartoon and I am so grateful for that too.

I am hugging my daughter, equal parts crying for her and fighting the urge to pin a certain little girl up by her big toes next time I see her.

I am facing an annoying and unwanted choice.

Do I reassure her and say "No darling you're not fat, you're a growing girl who is gorgeous"?


Do I say "It doesn't matter. big, small or tall you are a good person with a loving and kind heart"?

I ended up doing a bit of both. Every girl deserves to have a period in their lives where they feel and truely believe they are the most beautiful girl in the world. EVERY GIRL deserves that. I am her MUM and I am so angry that at 8, she has already lost that.

This won't be the last time. I know that. I want her to be strong enough to say "Screw you and your shallow opinion", but I know she's not. She will take that hurt and little bleeding heart and tuck it away, from now on always doubting a little if she really does look pretty.

How dare they?

Being an Adult is Stupid

Late last night I was thinking about the differences between being a Kid and being an Adult.

I came to the conclusion that the main non physical difference is the percentage of shit you don't want to do but have to do increases. The "Have - To's" just keep rolling in once you reach about 25 and grow exponentially until I don't know when.

Who spends their whole days off, their supposed "free time" checking off a list of "Have - Tos"? I know we call them errands and get a sense of accomplishment to have completed a full list, but did that mean spending 10 hours in your bloody car and another two in some sort of queue?

Or even worse than that, did you actually have some free time and spent it worrying about what you weren't doing in order to have this free time?

I watch my kids sometimes, they can spend a whole day doing what ever they please, interrupted only with requests for food. I am so happy they get to do that.
However, even their "Have - tos" list is growing. As school students and as family members, they have chores and homework and jobs to complete. They are learning every day about time limits and working within them. Adults in training. We as parents make them have the "Have - Tos".

Dont get me wrong, I want them to be contributing members of society, I want them to think of others and I want them to lead comfortable lives, so at some point they will need to work.
What I don't want for them is the stress and anxiety that comes from being the type of adult that forgets how to Kid. I want them to be safe in the knowledge that the "Want - Tos" are as equally important as the "Have - Tos".

I dont want this to be some kind of wanky "stop and smell the roses" post. But I think it might be....

I am No Less Of A Woman and Neither are my Daughters, stop telling us how to be a Woman

I am a  tall, fairly low maintenance, average looking, over weight, funny, smart, empathetic, worried, happy, loving woman.

The fact that I sometimes love to dress up and look elegant but also love to not get out of PJ's.
The fact that sometimes I wear make up but mostly don't.
The fact I miss my Mum
The fact I pass by windows and see my reflection and audibly sigh
The fact that sometimes I want to cook, but mostly I find it a chore.
The fact that I do alot of the cleaning up in my house.
The fact that I like to write personal things, in a public space.
The fact that I use this blog to feel better about myself.
The fact that I feel I am smart but can be really dumb on occasion
The fact that the first word my kids use to describe me is "Weird...really weird"
The fact I like to eat good food and I don't really like to exercise.
The fact I love my children, but also love to have my own time.
The fact I like to shop, but only own one designer anything
The fact that I rely on my husband for a lot of things and miss him when he is not around.
The fact that we aren't married and probably never will
The fact that I am talented in drawing and painting and actually do those things about twice a year.
The fact I like to keep a lot of things to myself, but feel better when I don't.
The fact that one of my daughters is unapologetically loud and proud and the other worries she is getting fat at age 7.
The fact that sometimes I get really frustrated over nothing
The fact that I forget to shave my legs sometimes, and the other fact that most of the time I couldn't care less.
The fact that I don't care as much if people know the "real" me
The fact that I have never found a cause or know what I want to be when I grow up
The fact, that while I believe in equal opportunity and woman's rights, It's not my cause. I need men and I believe men need woman.
The fact that tomorrow I'll read this and have changed my mind on about 60% of it




The fact that the world is full of passive aggressive messages of how you aren't good enough, even to be the gender that you already are. I am no less of a woman for doing things my way and neither are you.