Skip to content
Hi, I’m Frances — mum of three, founder of Wondertivity, and a proud 90s kid who grew up under the big blue Sydney sky at a time when weekends felt endless, neighbourhoods felt like extended families, and childhood moved at a beautifully slow pace.
Sometimes I look at children today — racing between school, activities, birthday parties, homework, digital distractions, and life — and I can’t help but feel a tug at my heart. Because raising kids today feels so different from how we grew up. And lately, I’ve found myself trying, really intentionally, to bring back some of that 90s wholesomeness into their lives.
Not to recreate the past… but to bring forward the parts that made childhood magical.
When “Fun” Was Simple
Growing up in Sydney in the 90s, fun didn’t need planning.
It didn’t need tickets.
It definitely didn’t need a screen.
Our entertainment was riding bikes until the streetlights flickered on, digging through the cheap lolly bags from the corner shop, playing handball on the hot bitumen, catching tadpoles at the park, or having random backyard adventures that involved zero adults and 100% imagination.
It was simple.
And it was enough.
Now, raising my own kids, I realise how powerful simplicity actually was. We had the time, space, and boredom to be creative. To make our own fun. To figure things out. To play.
I want that for my children too.
Slowing Down in a World That Moves Too Fast
In the 90s, life had a natural rhythm. Saturdays weren’t booked out weeks in advance. After school was for play, not tutoring, extracurriculars, and structured activities back-to-back.
Today’s world is… different.
Fast.
Loud.
Overstimulating.
And full of instant gratification.
There are times I catch my kids tapping on a screen waiting for something to load for half a second, looking genuinely frustrated. And it makes me pause — because patience used to be a normal part of daily life.
Waiting for the bus.
Waiting for your turn in handball.
Waiting for your sibling to get off the landline phone.
Waiting for the latest episode to air on TV — not binge-dropping at midnight.
Slowness wasn’t an inconvenience.
It was part of childhood.
So in our home, we’ve started intentionally creating slow moments. We choose long walks over quick errands. Paper books over iPads. Open-ended play over step-by-step activities. And it’s not perfect… but it’s grounding.
Manners, Kindness and “Being a Good Kid”
If you were a 90s kid in Sydney, you probably grew up hearing:
“Say thank you.”
“Look with your eyes, not your hands.”
“Say hello properly.”
“Share.”
“Don’t argue with adults.”
While I don’t believe in old-school strictness, I do believe in raising grounded, respectful, kind children — kids who know how to be part of a family, a classroom, a community.
We emphasise manners in our home not because it’s old-fashioned, but because it helps raise children who think beyond themselves, who understand empathy, who respect others. The world desperately needs more of that.
Letting Them Be Kids — Really Be Kids
The more I parent, the more I appreciate the gift of a low-pressure childhood.
In the 90s, we weren’t expected to be mini adults.
We weren’t expected to excel at everything.
We weren’t expected to have perfect handwriting, perfect speech, perfect behaviour, perfect everything by age three.
We had room to grow.
Room to be silly.
Room to learn through play — not panic.
That’s one of the reasons I started Wondertivity.
I wanted to create things that brought children back to childhood:
hands-on play, imagination, sensory exploration, creativity, life skills… all the things we naturally built growing up without even realising it.
I wanted my own kids — and yours — to have the chance to slow down, explore, tinker, giggle, and just be little.
Choosing Wholesome Over Perfect
I don’t have this all figured out.
I don’t get it right every day.
Sometimes life still feels like a rushed blur of school lunches, carpark meltdowns, sport on Saturdays, and endless to-dos.
But here’s what I’ve learnt:
Childhood doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be wholesome.
A little slower.
A little simpler.
A little more imaginative.
A little less instant.
I can’t give my children the 90s childhood I had — the world has changed and so have we — but I can give them the spirit of it.
And that, I think, might be the greatest gift of all.
