Tortillas at Midnight

 Most days I come across yet another person I follow on Instagram having fallen deep deep into the whole anti-vaxx, anti-lockdown, scamdemic thing. And I’m just like you too mate? Yet another one bites the dust?  They all seem to have a few things in common. Largeish followings. White. Wealthy. Everyone close to them is healthy. Job title: influencer.  I can’t even with these people. They both shock me and appal me. And I just feel like they’re growing in number each day. Let’s just say I’ve been pressing the unfollow button a lot lately. Sometimes though I go back to visit their page a while later, just to see how deep down the fake rabbit hole they’ve fallen.  Wakeful babies give you plenty of time to scroll. I think it’s the shock value that makes me want to look again.  And each time I’m even more shocked and grossed out by their sheer lack of common sense alongside their cruelty towards literally anyone who isn’t them. So many of them have escalated beyond ...

Huh? Yes? A stranded baby whale managed to kick up this much of a stir? I think we all know what happened to poor baby Toa . And sadly he passed away, despite the huge efforts of many people who worked hard to care for him around the clock. This isn’t about the ethics of what needed to happen to Toa if his pod wasn’t found. This is about the incredibly critical, self-declaring whale calf experts that New Zealand suddenly has. And so Toa’s passing obviously bought out the worst in humanity, through the form of ragey comments on the NZ Herald article.  Obviously. These whale experts are all very helpful from behind their screens, and are especially knowledgeable now that Toa is in orca heaven. They claim to know exactly why Toa died and how the people looking after him failed him. This is so very helpful of them, angry clunk-clunk typing from behind their keyboards. They’re probably mad about capital gains tax or something, but need to release it via whale-rage. Here are my favourite...

i hope this finds you well and in (grave) peace you were meant to be here  when we brought our next baby home  fresh and warm like a loaf of bread you were meant to greet us at the top of the stairs barking, jumping, being all in the way shedding your little orange blades  tail thumping and us wincing, wondering aloud how it doesn’t hurt (we are still wincing) you were meant to, at best, tolerate her and we were meant to praise you, deeply, for that you were meant to be here each night so i could tell you sorry for not playing as much as i used to  for there being less room on the bed  for my dwindling patience and i am still meant to be scratching behind your ears and you are still meant to be tearing through the park  and waiting below the high chair and taking up the whole couch  and avoiding baths and did you know i can still hear you sometimes, in the night your disgruntled signs your snores i can still hear your nails clatter as you rise  an...

I swear if I see one more of those posts about modern mothers being too engrossed in their phones to notice their children, I’m going to hit the roof. Or maybe just the fan. You know the ones I mean. They’re usually accompanied by a wholesome AF picture of a child playing with wooden blocks in an unnaturally tidy home, while the mum is sitting to the side looking at her phone, clearly depriving the child of 1000% of her total possible energy and attention. And the quotes! Don’t get me started on the quotes. It’s always something passive aggressive like ~be present~ or ~your children will grow up while you’re on your phone~ or ~don’t even blink because you will miss everything~. Basically, every one of these posts is about how mothers nowadays just ignore their children and instead choose to spend their every waking moment within the vain world of social media. They’re depicted as taking endless selfies, as treating their phones as their children, and essentially as being selfish, shall...

Have you heard of the 1000 hours outside challenge? I have no idea where it came from or who came up with it or any of that important stuff (which I should probably get into another day). But I’ve been quite interested in for for probably about a year now. Ever since the first lockdown and I stopped taking for granted being able to explore new places and go on little adventures, even if they are close to home. Basically, this challenge is where you and your kiddos (or whoever I guess. I know many pet dogs who would be partial to being involved) aim to spend 1000 hours outside over the course of one year. You don’t have to be doing anything in particular, there aren’t really any rules, so it is really all freedom to you. The aim (I think anyway, I probably should have done some proper research before I started writing this instead of just looking at pretty adventure photos) is to get outside because it’s simply bloody good for you. It’s good for your physical health, and most importantl...

 Like most deep dives I go on, this one happened in the dead of the night. But instead of exploring the mysterious world of “scamdemic” folk who believe in “vaccine shedding” (honestly, I can’t even make this up), or googling how many Franklin books there are in the heartwarming series (FYI there’s at least 25), I came across something that felt really profound to me. The idea of crying in loving arms.  (Throwback to a baby in the oven, while on the beach!) This is when your baby or toddler is fed and changed and has all of their basic, physical needs met, but they’re still upset. They aren’t unwell or too hot or too cold. They are just feeling big feelings. The idea is that you just simply hold them. That you don’t need to rock or bounce or feed them on and off for hours. That you just let them feel all of their big, huge, larger than life feelings, and to release them. And you just hold them through it all. You talk softly to them too. You tell them it’s okay to feel how th...