My daughter, Stella, is 4½ and she is already eagerly awaiting her 5th birthday (party) in April. On Friday last week I went to pick her up from kindergarten and when I arrived she was sitting on the mat with her classmates listening to her teacher explain how it was Jonah’s 5th birthday and he
You may or may not have noticed that things have gone a bit quiet over here in Mrs Goodness land lately. That’s because we have been busy with the process of selling our house. The past 8 weeks have been an exhausting whirlwind of cleaning and fixing, open homes, an unsuccessful auction, negotiations, and a
Hmm, the trouble with relaxing is it makes you realise how tired you are… and then it’s very difficult not to relax more! Last weekend I went on a little family holiday to Waiheke Island. It was my first real holiday in over 2 years! Consequently, I now realise it was far too short because
When I was a teacher of design, I did a project with my senior students that encouraged them to learn a little bit about design history. The two significant design eras I focussed on were Modernism and Post-modernism because I just loved to teach them all about the social, political, technological, and ideological changes that
Anyone who knows me well also knows that this little black dog with the white chin may be credited with saving my life. Perhaps not in a dramatic news-worthy fashion, involving dangerous waters or venomous snakes; but his entrance into my life undoubtedly kickstarted my recovery out of a bad case of depression. I think
I have a confession to make which may interest those of you who are mums too (and probably won’t interest anyone else!). I use disposable nappies on Daniel, and I think he’s only worn about 3 cloth nappies in his 16-month-long life. This is in spite of the fact that I know how bad they are
The other night at dinner, Stella snitched on her Poppy (my father-in-law). My husband laughed and explained that his father had snuck her a licorice lolly, whispering “Don’t tell Daddy!” with a wink. I rolled my eyes at my husband and said to Stella, “Well, aren’t you lucky! What a treat!” and let it go.
I haven’t watched television in three years. One of the last times I remember watching TV, I was heavily pregnant with Stella and sitting on the couch in our living room watching an episode of CSI. It just happened to be a deeply disturbing episode (particularly for an expectant mum with hormonally-heightened sensitivities!) about a father