This is not a Mummy Blog. I don’t think it is, anyway. Though, it is a blog, and there are people in this house who call me Mummy, so maybe it is.
If you come here looking for my best playdough recipe, I’ll tell you there’s a recipe on the back of the packet of the McKenzie’s brand of cream of tartar. (And if you put it all in a bowl and add hot water, rather than heat it in a saucepan, it’s much easier to clean up.)
If you come here looking for great craft ideas, I’ll tell you to avoid using glitter because it makes a mess. I have a love-hate relationship with craft with little kids: I love the idea and I hate the practicalities of it. My eldest son would beg to paint, I’d set it all up, he’d paint three lines, I’d clean it all up. My second son may not see a paintbrush before he starts Kindy.
If you come here looking for tips on how to be super-organised and how to menu plan and stick to a budget and follow a tight routine to keep your house, I will send you to smallnotebook.org or simplemom.net. My house usually looks like chaos and I break out in a cold sweat at the mention of routine.
If you come here looking for simple, easy, cheap, nutritious meals, and fancy, scrumptious, baked delicacies, all with detailed photos, you might be disappointed. I love cooking, and I like to cook most things from scratch where practical. But I am really bad at making it look nice. And I’m not interested in experimenting.
If you’ve come here to read cute and funny stories about my kids, you might get lucky on occasion. But I’m not here to write about my kids.
You might, however, read about parenting, simple living, Christianity, books, environmental issues, education, society, music, and life in North Queensland. Those are some of the things I love, the things I do every day. Parenting is mostly about my life with little kids, but my sole identity is not wrapped up in being a parent to small children. They are only small for a short time, albeit intense. Sometimes my whole life is wrapped up in nappies and tantrums and not sleeping and building train tracks and colouring in and starting school and the playroom as vomited through my house. But that’s not all I am.
The Philosophy of Playdough is about that crazy juxtaposition of being a mum constantly, but still wanting to retain my identity as someone who loves to think and explore ideas, and a way of expressing that identity through the sleepless haze of toddlerhood.