Monday: AFL training for Six. Sit on benches in the late afternoon sun with the mothers as children run around screaming for an hour. Mothers talk amongst themselves, asking why they are all so fat when all they do is eat normally, well sometimes there is a snack involved and one woman said, “we only have Maccas two or three times a week, KFC on Fridays and Sunday.” I watch the sun go down behind the baobab trees, their elephant trunks casting a shadow across the playing fields almost as wide as Mrs Maccas.

Tuesday: Football (soccer, as it was known) in-door five a side for Six. He’d never played football before, unless you count kicking me in the testicles every now and again. Gets on court and scores a goal within two minutes. Father of Six’s team-mate who looks like a biker and has more tatoos than a painted lady shouts across the court, “Yer a fuckin’ demon.”

Wednesday: Day at home for me – both nippers in school and pre-school. Have been asked to write journalism course for a college. Also, back on marking papers. I’ve had 90 this week...

Thursday: Four (yes, birthday last week, read on...) goes to swimming lessons. I tell woman behind the counter I’ll go for a swim too. She looks at me as if I’m mad. Leisure centre is packed with mums – sitting at the café. Australia’s best pies, says the sign. I look in vain for Mrs Maccas then realise she is probably still climbing the steps outside.

Friday: Go and help at school, which consists of helping Six’s classmates with their reading. All the girls can read, all the boys play. One of the teachers is going steady with herself. She is blonde (this week...) and wears figure hugging one-piece outfits that squeal when she walks. She is rumoured to be a top tango dancer in her spare time, offering lessons to anyone who's willing to get close to her. I imagine the queue is longer than the one at KFC.

Saturday: Six goes for swimming lessons. I say I’ll go for a swim. The woman at the desk looks at me, wondering why I don’t like pies.

Sunday: Four’s birthday. People have realised I don’t do 2-4pm at a play centre, so big crowd gathers. I cook jaloff rice, chick pea salad, potato salad, bbq lamb chops, sausages, t-bone steak, fish marinara. I do jelly shots with vodka (purple for the adults, blue for the kids, or is it the other way around...I forget). Kids organise their own games. The girls organise the boys, sending them off to go play hide and seek. I hear two Four year old girls discussing the game plan. One says to the other, “The thing is, you just can’t trust them.”