I woke up this morning, grabbed an eight month old twin under each arm, waddled into my 3 year olds room, told her to jump on mummy’s back (her legs are apparently broken in the morning so she must be carried), then lunged into the lounge room where I dumped my kids and began to make breakfast. I looked something like this – (see picture below)
And by something I mean exactly like this, that's me sitting on the can this morning.
I changed nappies and underpants, dispensed breakfast, have a long and complicated conversation with my three year old about the ecological implications of capturing and keeping a fairy and make fart noises with my baby boys. They think fart jokes are the highest form of humour, they’re right. Get my little Star Child off to preschool and my boys off to bed and then check my Facebook as I make my morning cup of tea. Mumma needs her morning cup of tea or things go very badly for everyone. What should I come across on Facebook but Tara Moss. Gosh darned, beautiful, intelligent, successful, efferbloodyvescent, writing, mumma, Tara Moss, in the morning.
Talented writer and mother Tara Moss in the morning
I haven’t even had breakfast yet and she’s managed to have a photo shoot… with cowboy boots!!! So I’ve decided to have cake for breakfast. That is all.
If you happen to be fifty shades of crae crae you may wish to join my group for “emotionally complex ladies.”
https://facebook.com/groups/563402577109194
Write or Wrong 