Blog Relationships

Matt realises it has been five years since the last blog post

After a fight on their honeymoon in 2012, Matt and Bec had decided to start a blog so they had a project to work on together. It was going to be a ‘relationship building’ exercise. This was when blogs were still a thing, before TikTok reduced the attention span of the average internet user to 1.75 seconds. At the time they were both writers living in the country with not much else to do. The project was a success and even spawned a broadly unread column in the local newspaper (when local newspapers were still a thing) about a young couple who moved to the country.

After three years of regular updates, the relationship building exercise seemed to have worked, and our heroes found themselves five weeks out from the birth of their fist child and up all night on a ‘babymoon‘. Fast forward another five years, and the blog had gone mysteriously dormant.

Matt: Hey Darling, do you know we haven’t blogged in five years? We should start blogging again.

Bec: No.

Matt: Why not?

Bec: Because that would mean I’d have to work with you and I have better things to do with my time than work with you.

Matt: I’ve seen you in your spare time. You sit on the couch watching old episodes of The Real Housewives of Beverley Hills and Million Dollar Listing New York.

Bec: As I said, I have better things to do than work with you.

Matt: Well, I think it would be relationship-building. And we have SO much to update our readers on. They’re all probably wondering what happened – whether we had the baby, whether we’re still in the country. All that.

Bec: What readers?

Matt: We have readers.

Bec: You mean your ex-girlfriend?

Matt: No. We have lots of readers. I’ll check Google Analytics and show you.

*Five minutes later*

Matt: At our peak, our blog averaged 12 visitors a day. That’s huge!

Bec: How long did that peak last?

Matt: One day. But it was a strong day.

Bec: Was that the day you kept refreshing the browser window to boost our following so you could sell ads on the blog?

Matt: Maybe.

Bec: I’m not blogging with you.

Matt: That’s OK. I know you’re busy right now. I’m just going to leave this computer here open and you can write something when you feel ready.

*Five minutes later*

Matt: You haven’t written anything yet.

Bec: Correct.

Matt: Why not?

Bec: I’m watching Million Dollar Listing New York. It’s an important episode. It’s the one where the millionaire gets angry because the agents can’t get the asking price.

Matt: That’s every episode of Million Dollar Listing New York.

Bec: I’m not blogging with you.

Matt: Fine. I’ll blog by myself.

Bec: Fine.

Matt: Just so you know, I’ll be telling everyone how you have terrible taste in TV shows.

Bec: That’s fine. I’ll start a TikTok account which is just short videos of you snoring and not taking the rubbish out.

Matt: Even with a potential global audience of a billion randoms, that won’t get more than one view a day.

Bec: And that will be one more than your blog will get.

Matt: Our blog.

Bec: Incorrect.


Matt and Bec are up all night on their ‘babymoon’

With five weeks to go until the birth of their first child, Matt and Bec decided to head to the coast for a long weekend of time out together before the little one arrived. Matt was vocal about it being a ‘babymoon’ – with the idea that it contain a similar amount of romance as their ‘honeymoon’, but without the colourful arguments about which historical Roman ruins they would be avoiding before and after lunch. Given the heavily-pregnant Bec wasn’t feeling in ship-shape, despite being the shape of a ship, she was vocal about the weekend being as romantic as a seasick sojourn through Sydney’s septic system. Which it turned out to be.

Bec: Stop shaking.

Matt: I can’t. I have a fever.

Bec: You can’t possibly be that feverish. You’re shaking like a rollerblader on a corrugated iron roof.

Matt: I’ll stop shaking soon. I had some aspirin. And I took some expired malaria medication I found in my old travel bag, just in case. I got bitten by so many midgies this afternoon, one of them had to be carrying something.

Bec: Oh my god! How much expired malaria medication did you take?

Matt: I don’t know. I think there were six or seven tablets left.

Bec: Why did you take so much?

Matt: It was from 2005 when I went to Vietnam, so I figured I’d better take all of it to get the full effect.

Bec: Are you joking?

Matt: Yes.

Bec: You need to work on your jokes. They’re not very funny. Like when you were burying your wedding ring in the sand earlier today, and pretending you’d lost it, and then finding it again by making a metal detector sound. That wasn’t very funny.

Matt: I’m going to be a dad in five weeks. My jokes can’t be too funny or they won’t let me hold the baby in the hospital. They’ll be like ‘wait, this guy is hilarious, he can’t be the dad’.

Bec: There is no danger of that happening.

Matt: What’s that sound? It sounds like a dog vomiting.

Bec: It’s Molly.

Matt: What’s she doing?

Bec: Vomiting.

Matt: Where?

Bec: On your new jacket.

Matt: Why?

Bec: I think she ate too much sand today.

Matt: Why is she vomiting on my new jacket?

Bec: I put it down so she wouldn’t vomit on the floor.

Matt: How did you know she was going to vomit?

Bec: She’s already vomited five times tonight while you’ve been snoring. I’m sick of taking her outside to throw up, so when I heard her about to throw up, I put her on your jacket.

We’re unsure how Molly became so ill…

Matt: Can’t you just lock her in the shower so we can hose it down later?

Bec: No, because she will die and we won’t hear her and she’ll die.

Matt: You always skip to the worst-case scenario. Have you ever, just once, stopped and considered the best-case scenario? For example, in this case, it would be Molly appreciating the cool tiles, being in another room, not having to listen to you nagging, and comfortably vomiting down the drain where her pale, sandy dog-sick can easily be hosed out by you in the morning?

Bec: I’ve already taken her outside five times tonight. I’m not cleaning up after her any more.

Matt: Well, I’m sick, so I’m not doing it. You’re on your own.

Bec: I’m 35 weeks pregnant.

Matt: You should take the opportunity to squat and practise opening your pelvis, like we learned in birthing class.

Bec: There’s no ‘I’ in ‘team’, mate.

Matt: Yes, but there is an ‘i’ in dog vomit. Case closed. I’m sick. You have to do it.

Blog Featured Pregnancy

Things that go baby bump in the night…

Matt: It’s 3am and you’ve been rolling around for two hours. What’s going on? The bed hasn’t seen this much action since our wedding night.

Bec: I’ve got news for you if you think the bed has ever seen two hours of action.

Matt: Well, some of us are trying to sleep. I’m sure the baby is sick of it too. Can’t you just lay still?

Bec: I’ve got 11 kilos stuck on my front. I’m like one of those dolls that rights itself when you push them over. I’m bloated, I feel dizzy, I can’t sleep, I have to go to the toilet every 20 minutes. I only wish you knew how uncomfortable this was.

Matt: You’ve just described how I felt every Friday night from 1997 to 2010. You didn’t duck out to Fortitude Valley for 20 beers and a kebab while I was sleeping did you?

Bec: No. And I bet no kebab ever gave you reflux and kicked you in the ribs.

Matt: I’ve never had a kebab that didn’t do that.

Bec: Yes, well, I’m also stressed.

Matt: What about?

Bec: I was dreaming that I was sleeping on my stomach. Do you think perhaps I wasn’t dreaming, instead I was actually sleeping on my stomach?

Matt: No. And I’ve seen the route the baby is going to take on the way out of your stomach. Getting squashed by you sleeping the wrong way is the least of its concerns.

Bec: OK, well I’m stressed about my pyjama pants too.

Matt: Why?

Bec: They can sometimes wrap around my legs really tightly throughout the night. Do you think this is cutting off my circulation and therefore air to the baby?

Matt: No.

Bec: I just want to be sure. Maybe we should buy a baby monitor now, so we can monitor ourselves as we sleep. Baby monitors can record people sleeping can’t they?

Matt: I don’t know, but I’m sure there’s a thread on that at

Bec: Hmmm. Do you think charging my phone on my bedside table is a good idea, given the electrical currents are close to the baby when I lay on my left side?

Matt: I’m sure the Apple people would have thought of that. But you have Google, so ultimately I’ll just wait for your diagnosis. Just don’t get too close to the phone though while you’re researching – best use the touch screen with a stick.

Blog Pregnancy

Baby shopping: the 157 essential items you must buy if you don’t want to be a bad parent

Bec: We’ve still got so many things to buy for the baby.

Matt: I know, right? What is the baby going to do on Saturday afternoons if he doesn’t have a seven metre yacht to sail on?

Bec: You’re not getting a yacht. We can’t afford a yacht.

Matt: I meant sailboat. I said “yacht” so you’d think I was rich and you would love me more.

Bec: I have access to your bank account, you can barely afford a Paddle Pop, and I still love you more than anyone else appears to, so we’re not getting a sailboat. We need important baby stuff. Like a baby monitor.

Matt: Why do we need a baby monitor? Isn’t he just going to sleep in the same room as us anyway, like our eleven-year-old dog, and your 31-year-old pillow?

Bec: I suppose. Maybe. How do we know when it’s time to put the baby in his own room?

Matt: Going by your record of separation anxiety, I imagine when he’s starting to bring girls home.

Bec: Seriously, there are so many things we need. According to this list in Platinum Parenting Magazine, there are 157 essential must-have baby items, and we only have five.

Matt: We’ve already got a cot, car seat, stroller, Baby Bjorn, and that shipping container of disposable nappies your aunt bought at Costco. I never had disposable nappies. I think we’re already splurging there. What else could we possibly need?

Bec: A change table for a start.

Matt: What’s wrong with the normal table?

Bec: The one we eat dinner from?

Matt: Yes.

Bec: Have you ever changed a baby?

Matt: No.

Bec: On that note, we’ll need a high chair.

Matt: Why?

Bec: So the baby can eat at the dinner table with us.

Matt: I thought babies just ate breast milk. Which I’m all for. If you want to feed the baby at the dinner table that’s awesome. It’ll be the first time I will have seen your boobs in nine months.

Bec: We’ll need a feeding chair.

Matt: How is that different to a high chair?

Bec: I’ll sit in the feeding chair to feed the baby. And you can too, when I’ve expressed and you’re doing the 3am shift.

Matt: Define “expressed”. And, while you’re at it, define “3am shift”.

Bec: You will be doing a “3am” feeding shift to assist me. And, I will be “expressing” to assist you to do this. And, according to Platinum Parenting Magazine, we’re going to need bottles, nipples, breast pads, a breast pump, nipple cream, and nipple guards.

Matt: Are you reading Platinum Parenting Magazine, or the classifieds section of Playboy Magazine?

Bec: I don’t think you realise what we’re up against here. We need ‘baby’ everything. Baby bath, baby towels, baby books, baby nail scissors, baby swing, baby booties, baby gym.

Matt: How are baby nail scissors different to normal nail scissors?

Bec: They’re ‘baby’.

Matt: What’s the difference between a “baby towel” and a “hand towel”?

Bec: Baby towels are made especially for babies.

Matt: Are they made from different towel material?

Bec: No. They’re just child-sized.

Matt: Like a hand towel then?

Bec: No, like a towel, for children.

Matt: Do they cost more?

Bec: They cost as much as a normal towel.

Matt: But they use 10% of the material.

Bec: I’m starting to get the feeling you don’t want to properly look after our children.

Matt: I’m starting to get the feeling you don’t want to properly look after my dreams of owning a sailboat. Also, I object to paying extra for things for small children – just put what we’ve got in the dryer and it will all be baby-size!

Bec: Oh, very good.



Blog Pregnancy

Things Bec has worried about since finding out she’s pregnant

  • That the guy in the pet supplies store whose breath smelled like cigarettes would give the baby lung cancer.
  • That the baby was hurt when the Woolworths truck backed out too quickly and gave Bec a fright.
  • That the baby was seriously injured when Bec had a facial and the lady at the beauty salon put a steam machine thing near her face.
  • That the baby will have foetal alcohol syndrome because Bec had two glasses of wine the night before it was conceived.
  • That the baby will be deformed because Bec carried the groceries in from the car and there was a two litre milk bottle in one of the bags (the strain).
  • That the baby will have gas poisoning from the time Matt sprayed a moth with flyspray in the bedroom whilst Bec was in the ensuite with the door shut.
  • That there is too much iron in Milo, almost a quarter of the recommended daily allowance, and that the baby will have an iron disease from having too much iron.
  • That the baby has mercury poisoning because she ate a small piece of mackerel, which the baby book said was very low in mercury, but it’s still a fish and fish can have mercury, so should she go to the hospital and get her stomach pumped.
  • That the half a can of Coke Zero she had was too much caffeine for the baby, and that the baby now has a caffeine addiction.
  • That the baby has chicken poo poisoning because when she went into the chicken coop, her hair touched where the chickens had been sitting and then some wind blew the hair near her lips.
  • That the baby has Hendra virus because the horse sneezed on Bec.
Blog Pregnancy

The Granfields find out they are having a baby

20 Weeks Ago…

Bec: So, I think I’m ovulating…

Matt: OK Darling. I’ve just got to finish watering the grapes. They’re getting a bit dry and I’ve finally got the length of the septic tank overflow pipe right so it reaches the furthest vine. There’s some poo and stuff about the place, but it’s good fertiliser. I’ll only be another five minutes.

Bec: Did you hear what I said?

Matt: Something about waiting. I’ll only be five more minutes.

Bec: No, I said ‘ovulating’.

Matt: I thought you said you were ‘over waiting’.

Bec: You need to get your hearing checked.

Matt: You need to stop mumbling from the verandah while I’m out in the vineyard. I can barely hear you.

Bec: You’re such a romantic.

Matt: I’m not the one wearing tracksuit pants, standing on a verandah, telling anyone who’ll listen that she’s ovulating.

Bec: I think we’ve established no one was listening.

19 Weeks Ago…

Bec: So, I think I’m pregnant.

Matt: Really?

Bec: I’ve peed on three different sticks. They all have a little bar on them.

Matt: And a little bar means we’re having a baby?

Bec: Yes.

Matt: Does three bars mean we’re having three little babies?

Bec: No, it means I have anxiety and I didn’t trust the first two sticks.

Matt: If we’re having triplets and this is a test, that’s OK. I will still support you.

Bec: Yes, well, if you run out on me now, my Dad will cut off your testicles, so I wasn’t doubting your dedication.

Matt: OK. Well, just so you know.

Bec: Well this is very exciting. How do you feel?

Matt: This is the best thing ever!

Bec: I know!

Matt: What do we do now?

Bec: I have no idea.

Matt: Don’t you have motherly instincts? Are they kicking in? What are they saying?

Bec: They’re saying “It’s time to consult Dr Google.”

Matt: Are you sure you want to do that?

Bec: Yes.

Matt: It’s just that Dr Google isn’t very reliable is he? Remember the time Dr Google diagnosed you with smallpox?

Bec: I had a number of the symptoms.

Matt: You had a mosquito bite.

Blog Featured

Twelve Indisputable Facts of Life

  1. Nobody knows whether it is actually recycling bin night. One person on the street takes a chance and the rest follow their lead.
  2. The average supermarket avocado has been squeezed by 427 other customers before you buy it.
  3. If your question to your husband begins with “have you seen my…” you’ll only ever get two answers – “I don’t know” or “I don’t know what that is”
  4. The keys are in the same place as your mobile phone. Which is flat. And carefully stored in the bottom of the bucket on the third shelf in the bathroom cupboard – a place you chose last night after the fourth glass of wine so you wouldn’t forget where to find your keys.
  5. You will remember where you put them ten minutes after you need to.
  6. You CAN type at 140 w.p.m. with 100% accuracy. As long as no one is watching.
  7. The incessantly beeping smoke alarm with the flat battery is at the top of the stairs and inaccessible by ladder.
  8. Candles you get from ‘Target’ burn longer, smell nicer, and you won’t need to talk to weird candle shop women, who judge you when you inevitably reject their up-selling of unnecessary candle accessories.
  9. Putting a siren sample in your popular song is a fantastic idea. As long as no one will ever listen to your song in a motor vehicle stuck at traffic lights.
  10. If you want a significantly overweight person to appear out of nowhere, board a plane, and await your long haul flight to London. Have a spare seat next to you. Wait 5 seconds before the plane doors close. Voila.
  11. People who know how to relate to little dogs are the best. They (little dogs) test empathy. i.e. they’re small, vulnerable – everyone and everything else being big. Good people recognise that and adjust their approach.
  12. We all pretend to write down reference numbers given over the phone. Nobody actually does.
Blog Featured

Bec and Matt welcome a new arrival…

Matt: I’ve got a surprise for you darling!

Bec: You’ve learnt how to budget?

Matt: I picked up my gun today! I’ve got it right here. Want to see it?

Bec: Get that thing out of the house! I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to know where it is. Store it somewhere bulletproof, bomb proof, burglar proof, child proof, and preferably Matt proof. I hate guns. And, will you PLEASE learn the difference between a surprise for you, and a surprise for me.

Matt: Is it a surprise if I want to go shoot my gun now, instead of talk to you?

Bec: At what?

Matt: Nothing. I just want to shoot it.

Bec: It’s 8.30pm; we have horses on our property, cows at the neighbours’, and wallabies everywhere.  You are not randomly shooting a gun into the distance at 8.30pm at night. You’ll accidentally kill something, and, our neighbours will think you’ve shot me.

Matt: They’ll be able to hear you yelling at me after the fact, so I doubt it. And I wasn’t going to shoot it randomly; I was going to shoot with sniper-like precision.

Bec: At what?

Matt: Rabbits.

Bec: No way.

Matt: The couch?

Bec: What?!?

Matt: The old couch. We just got a new couch. You said you hate the old couch. I’ll put it down the back. It’s a pretty big target so you won’t have to worry about me missing and hitting a bunny. Not that I’d miss, I’m like Annie Oakley.

Bec: No idea who that is. Anyway. How about you test all of that ‘precision’ you possess and ‘shoot’ all the lantana and weeds with the spray gun tomorrow? That could be fun?

Matt: How about LAME?

Bec: Very mature.

Matt: Telling me to go shooting with a spray gun is the same as you asking for a diamond necklace and me presenting you one from a gumball machine.

Bec: That would be the most you’ve spent on a present for me since we got married.

Matt: Yes, well, before we were married, there was a strong likelihood a present would lead to sex. Now I might as well just save my money and spend it on firearms.

Bec: Yes, well, how much money did you save up for this particular firearm?

Matt: None, I put it on the credit card you don’t have access to.


Bec and Matt have a fight and Matt sleeps in the spare room

Bec: …Yeah, well YOU NEVER EVER do the washing up and I hate the way you drive, and I’m not talking to you EVER AGAIN!

Matt: …Well, you wouldn’t know what washing up even LOOKED LIKE because you haven’t cooked dinner since 1994 and I hate the way you backseat drive. I’m not talking to YOU ever again! AND, I’m sleeping in the SPARE ROOM tonight.

Bec: Like I’d even WANT to sleep in the same bed as YOU!

Matt: FINE!

Bec: FINE.

Matt: FINE! And I’m going to slam every door between here and the spare bedroom, just so you know how SERIOUS I am about not talking to you!

Bec: Well there’s only ONE door in between here and the spare bedroom, which goes to show just how dumb you are! You don’t even know how many doors there are in this house. Probably because you spend all your time pissing on the floor of the toilet instead of in the toilet, while I CLEAN EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME AND I HATE YOUR STUPID TOENAIL CLIPPINGS ON THE FLOOR AND I HATE WHEN YOU PUT THE WEET-BIX PACKET IN THE BIN WHEN THERE’S STILL CRUMBS IN IT, I LIKE THE CRUMBS. I EAT THE CRUMBS. I TOLD YOU THAT A MILLION TIMES BUT YOU STILL PUT IT IN THE BIN WHICH SHOWS YOU DON’T PAY ATTENTION AND YOU DON’T LOVE ME !


Matt slams spare bedroom door three times 

*Ten minutes later*


Bec: Ugggh where is he? Did he go outside? Is he in bed? What happens if he gets sleep apnea and DIES? Actually, was that the spare bedroom door he slammed, or the front door? What if he went outside and slipped on the deck and is paralysed? Or went to lock the chickens up, and got attacked by a fox, or bitten by a snake and is currently being swallowed? And I’ve done NOTHING? Arrrgh! What is that sound? Is that him? Is he being constricted and eaten? The police would ask me why I didn’t go and look for him. There’d be a trial. I’ll be known all over Toowoomba, and on Buzzfeed, as the Snake Lady Husband Killer. They won’t let me adopt any puppies ever again and I’ll have to wear an ankle bracelet and I won’t be able to shave my legs properly. Should I go in and check? No, that’s giving in. Be rational. He always says you’re irrational. He stormed off in a huff, he’s just sulking. That’s what’s happening. I need to be the bigger person in this. He’ll apologise in the morning… I wonder what he’s thinking now? I bet he can’t even sleep because he’s so mad at himself for being such an arsehole.

Matt: *Snoring*


The Granfields choose future baby names

'Escargot' was also ruled out
‘Escargot’ was also ruled out

Bec: We need to start thinking about names for our eventual children.

Matt: Well, the boy has to be called ‘Jack’, we both know that.

Bec: Agreed.

Matt: “Jack Granfield”. That sounds like Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald had a meeting to discuss the best name for a male human ever. They would have thought, ‘Obviously we can’t call him Jack London, because that’s already taken, so we’ll go with Jack Granfield’.

Bec: I know we said ‘Francesca’ for a girl, but it’s a bit, ‘been done’ now.

Matt: I actually always liked ‘Paris’, for a girl. But we can’t do that now, obviously. It’s too white trash.

Bec: She’d have more chance in life if we called her ‘Mercedes Schappelle BMW’.

Matt: We like France. What about some French names. I like ‘Madeleine’.

Bec: Nope.

Matt: Why not?

Bec: I knew a girl at uni called Madeleine. We didn’t get along.

Matt: Let’s look at a map of France and see if there are any other nice girl names there.

Bec: OK

Matt: ‘Le Mans’, is out, obviously.

Bec: What did you just say?

Matt “Le Mans”.

Bec: Yes, but you pronounced it ‘Lair Morn’. And in a voice so low, if you walked past a urologist they’d bring you in for an immediate check-up. They’d think one of your balls was caught in a shoe.

Matt: I’m just being cultural.

Bec: Yes, but you sound like an idiot. Say “I love you Bec”

Matt: I love you Bec.

Bec: Right. That sounds normal. Now, say it in French.

Matt: Je t’aime Rebecque.

Bec: See.

Matt: See what?

Bec: You said “Rebecque”, and you dropped your voice two octaves. Stop trying to sound sexy. When you try and sound sexy, you don’t sound sexy, you sound like a wanker.

Matt: Saint-Germain-des-Prés

Bec: We’re not naming our girl Saint-Germain-des-Prés.

Matt: What about “Pepé Le Pew”

Bec: No.