Since returning to full-time employment after having a child I’ve faced a number of obstacles. Most of them are The Master’s toys which are strewn from one end of the house to the other. But certainly the removal of daytime naps from my life has been a sad loss.
It’s a long time ago now, but I once worked in hospitality. It’s an unusual industry. Ostensibly you’re there to serve food and drinks but a large part of your job is keeping the general atmosphere enjoyable and, for lack of a better word, “jolly”.
Armageddon Expo. If you’ve never been to the annual pop culture event, it could be because you don’t live in one of the main centres. Or maybe you’re just the kind of person who has no desire whatsoever to come face to face with a zombie.
Last night the fiancé and I attended The Foo Fighters’ Christchurch concert, the first of their 2015 Sonic Highways World Tour. It was epic in more ways that one. In order to get there we had to battle sleep deprivation (we’d both been awake since at least 4:30am), baby-wrangling and babysitter organising, and monstrous traffic
One of the things they never tell you about parenthood is how much it hurts. And I’m not talking about labour, or breastfeeding, or even those uterine cramps you get while breastfeeding (like a super-fun combination of both discomforts).
I have big boobs. This is not me skiting, it’s simply a fact. I’d prefer that they were smaller, truth be told, but after years of wishing them other than they are I am now at peace with my buxom status.