by Lori Dwyer on October 4, 2013 · 0 comments

I’ve always had this weird kind of conundrum when it comes to co-sleeping with my kids.

It’s so much easier to just let them crawl into my bed if need be. I was a single person in a two person bed, so there was plenty of room. It meant I got infinitely more sleep. And there’s something lovely about curling up next to the warmth of a little person, their sweet sleepy breath in your ear.

The Chop gave up sleeping in my bed years ago. The Bump has been crawling her sleepy sweet self into my bed for the last few years, and has shown no immediate signs of wanting to stop.

Now there are two people in the two people bed, and one of us isn’t as calloused as he will eventually be by the chronic sleep deprivation that comes with little kids, I’ve taken to dispatching myself to the Bump’s bed in the wee hours of the morning.

The girl child calls for me and (somewhat miraculously,  given my constant, continuous level of tiredness) I respond. I slip in next to her warm, cuddly form in her small single bed. Once upon a month or so ago, she would have a steady reason to do so, every night. She would be cold, or scared, or have had a bad dream. She’s given up the charade completely now and simply says “Mummy! I want you in my bed!!”

The broken sleep messes with me. I’m not good when I’m tired. It makes all manner of PTSD and anxiety much, much worse. It lowers my immune system and causes dermatitis to rage over my hands and feet.

But at the same time, it’s almost kind of worth it. I know it won’t be like this forever. Ten years from now I may just be aching for the sweet softness of a child cuddled up next to me.

And besides that, I get it. It’s only human nature.

Who wants to sleep all by themselves, really, when the option of sleeping with someone beside you is there?



All The Reasons Why.

by Lori Dwyer on October 3, 2013 · 13 comments

It comes up a lot here, the question of why I moved to Melbourne, instead of The Most Amazing Man moving to TinyTrainTown.

It’s a loophole in my argument, a volley to be thrown. It’s not something I’ve really addressed. So- for the point of having a complete story here, without chunks of information missing- I might as well blog how and why that decision was made. And address, I guess, that startlingly misogynistic notion that the man in this relationship should have moved to me, instead of the other way round.

First off, it wasn’t like The Most Amazing Man didn’t offer to move to Sydney. Because he did, many times, and knowing him the way I do now, I’ve no doubt he would have happily settled into the existing rhythm of life with the kidlets and I. But nothing’s ever that simple, really, is it? There’s always more to it than that.

My work is flexible– I’m tempered only by my laptop and an Internet connection. The Most Amazing Man’s job is more stationary. The biggest practical concern when you’re permanently changing locations is work, is it not? And it was easier to uproot mine than it was to shuffle his.

If you’re going to do family life in a city, you have to choose one that’s livable. Melbourne, undoubtedly, is. It’s considered one of the most liveable cities in the world. Sydney, by comparison, is expensive and crowded and choked with traffic.

I dearly love Melbourne (everything except the weather, anyway. But that’s another post for another day). It’s colourful and diverse and friendly and accepting. Why would we both move somewhere we don’t particularly like, when we could both live somewhere we love?

With all that established, there was the kidlets to think about. And I did very little but think about it, for weeks and months on end. It’s not a decision you make easily. And sometimes it bothers me, even having made the decision and being happy with it. It niggles at me that children- everyone’s children, to a point, are at the whim of their parents decisions. They get swept along in the tumultuousness of grown-up’s lives. You do your best to consider their needs, their wants, what’s best for them. You listen to them. But ultimately, it’s the parents who get to decide what’s best for their children. It’s not fair, and I remember it smiting when I was a child, the feeling of impotence that comes with being so young and having no control.

But that’s the way it is, with life, and being a kid. And sometimes parents see things their children couldn’t possibly take in.

Like being surrounded by the whisper of a death, and needing a new life. A fresh start. A clean break.

I didn’t want my children to grow up in the shadow of what happened. If I can, to a certain extent, break them away from what happened so that life is sunny, instead of defaulted to grey and gloomy, I will.

And I did.

So, to the people who have asked “If he’s so amazing, why didn’t he move to you?”, the simple answer is- he would have.

But it seemed much healthier, for everyone involved, for us to move here instead.




by Lori Dwyer on October 2, 2013 · 2 comments

This post brought to you by Woolworths, and those new animal cards they’re giving out. You know the ones I mean.


My son likes to collect things.

He is an ordered, organised little soul. He has a coin collection, a Trash Pack collection, and a massive collection of UNO cards.

And we now have an Aussie Animal card collection, complete with folder, as well. I know I’m not the only one whose kid is obsessed, right? Judging by what I’ve heard while picking the Bump up from kinder, and the response to this Instgram post, I’m most certainly not alone.




Anyway. I kind of got lucky with this one. Or unlucky, depending on how much collecting you can stand.

Woolworths sent me a gift voucher to take the kidlets shopping and pick up a set of their new collector cards. Shopping with small children, as we’ve previously established, is hell on earth. Having something to bribe them with was fabulous.

We did an epic shopping trip in order to collect as many Aussie Animals cards as possible. You get a four pack of cards for every $20 you spend and, because they like to be tricky, the card packs are effectively sealed. Which means there is no stuffing around, trying to convince the checkout chick to give you the ones you specifically want.

Aussie Animals cards

Our current favourite cards include the Common Bottle-Nosed Dolphin (the Bump has a serious thing for dolphins), the Red Back Spider (which my kids have finally learnt the proper name for, after years of calling it a ‘blacky red spider’), and the Corroboree Frog (my favourite- tiny little things are just so cute). We broke into cheers of celebration the other day upon filling one whole page in the album with cards. And for good reason. Showing your completed album at Taronga or Western Plains Zoo gets you one free admission. 

This whole collectible card concept copped a bit of a bagging when it was announced, with people saying that kids ‘just weren’t into this kind of thing any more’. To be honest, I probably would have agreed. But it seems kids are loving them- so much so that Woolworths stores are holding card trading days and there’s a whole swap group on FaceBook. Who would’ve thunk?

Parents of obsessive children- brace yourselves. A whole new collectible is here.