Hi there, confused by the seemingly never-ending pineapple motif?  Why does this woman seem to hate her children? Why does she swear so much?

Before we get to the pineapple thing, I’ll correct a few misconceptions first:

  • I am Australian, not American, and I live in Australia, not America.
  • I am a mother and have an incurable wanderlust which took my husband, two children and I on an almost year long trip around Australia in 2014, not to mention to South Africa every few years and South East Asia and the Pacific at least once a year.
  • I also travel in Australia with friends a lot because, let’s face it, drinking wine or going on a hike with someone who has a developed vocabulary is generally a lot more pleasant than trying to do so with your four year old.
  • We live in a paradise called Noosa on the the Sunshine Coast of Queensland, Australia. I write a lot about our adventures around here which occur mostly in our Wheeled Mansion (camper trailer).
  • I write a blog post at least once a week (on Tuesdays). Sometimes I manage to get my shit together enough to write a second one later in the week. I post all manner of examples of mediocre mothering on Instagram and Facebook (sometimes on Pinterest, rarely on Twitter).
  • I am NOT inhibited by a really shitty, limited vocabulary. I just really like swearwords. If you are offended by swear words, you’ll probably get offended by this blog so be proactive and don’t read this blog. Or walk on the wild side. It’s up to you.

    moose pineapple
    The Moose Pineapple.
  • I used to be a high school teacher which is why I’m exceptionally good at ranting.
  • I love my children. Immeasurably so. I hug them and kiss them and play with them and teach them to be good citizens to the very best of my ability.
  • My children are really, really annoying sometimes.
  • I endeavour (that means when I get a chance between the washing, the feeding and the mothering business) to send out a newsletter every fortnight about what’s been happening. I also write little ebooks and give them away for free, but only in these newsletters. You can sign up for this over on the side bar.

Oh. The pineapples. That’s right. Click here and read  all about it. That should clear it up.

And here is who I write about most of the time:

Fiela (pron.feela) is my South African husband. Sussie (pron. sissy, the Afrikaans word for sister) is our six-year-old daughter. The Boet-man (pron. booht-man, the Afrikaans word for brother) is our three-year-old son. I’m taking the photo.

Don’t they all look happy in this photo? That’s because we were on that trip travelling around Australia in 2014. Because we were on this trip we stayed at idyllic places like here, Clare in South Australia. Just to show that it wasn’t all sunshine and lollipops, but that I was mothering in a mediocre fashion even back then, here’s some other photos from that afternoon:

Children fighting. Note inappropriate state of dress on Sussie.


Tantrum. Something about his jumper: he wanted it off, so we took it off. #assholeparent



Because we had a camper trailer with limited space, ‘time out’ or the ‘naughty corner’ was located next to the car wheels (weather permitting).  Note shirt back on.


And the logical conclusion to all of that was WINE.


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