For All The Twitter Lovers

Good news for Twitter lovers is you can now get all your tweets onto a 2 ply toilet roll called Shitter. With the tag line "Social media has never been so disposable" you may well think this is exactly where Twitter feeds belong (but not me, I love Twitter).

Shitter toilet paper. I know. Awesome right? I am pretty sure this is all your dreams come true, so you can stop sleeping now and get tweeting for truly customised toot roll.

You can read more here.

Oh Hai.

Last night I went out on the town to kick up my heels with a bunch of bloggers. I met Wee Birdy there and together we giggled and guffawed the night away.


Big ups to Wee Birdy for giving me this banging picture of me being a ham hock. I mean, who doesn't star their Darling mani when posing mercilessly? The truth is, the reason I was dressed like a Tequila Sunrise (see recipe here) was for the Kidspot Top 50 Bloggers. Aha. 


Woogs held me in her bosom. I got to meet Eden. Was astounded by Hair Romance's beautiful hair. And I reunited with Chantelle. There were many more and it was like a whirlwind tour. I felt a bit like a fraud. 


Anyway, you readers, you are all quiet as mice. What's happening on your homefronts? Do tell. I am waiting to hear. And when someone wants to hack into my mainframe and let me know how I can reply directly to comments, well I am all freaking ears. I can not work it out myself and I want to punch my blog in the head. 


Right now I am listening to Gossling because I just love her. I've eaten a burger for dinner and had two to three wines. Who's counting? (Because it's not like I have to drive to bed.) I got told I was very quiet at work today. I love listening to the Hack on Triple J driving home. Do you? What are you doing? Come on, spill. Fill me in on what's on the haps in your neighbourhood. 


Oh and as a Friday bonus, how great is this Bluejuice cover of Video Games. I went off Lana del Rey quicker than Lite White goes off in a luke warm fridge. But this. This I can get with.


And finally, come join me on Facey. We can like totes chat. And stuff. 


PS - this is a link heavy post. I apologise. But perhaps you'll thank me later for sending you around the world in just one quick read of PottyMouthMama?

Will You Still Respect Me In The Morning?

Every morning, I wake up, stretch, blink my eyelids, and check my emails. I know this routine by rote. It's a bit sad, I do admit, but a lot can go on on the interwebz overnight. I love the interwebz. 

But lately - that 'lot' is a hellofalotta spam. 

I changed the settings on my blog so any anonymous commenters (the nice ones, not the nasty ones) could comment. And that decision has certainly bitten me on the bum. 


Did you know that I am a multi-millionaire in a number of different currencies? That I can access celebrity porn at the click of a mouse? My goodness. PottyMouthMama is a veritable Pandora's box. 


If you are anonymous and wish the channels of conversation to remain open, then state your case, otherwise I must close the floodgates, I am sick of vetting the spam-in-ator. 


So now that I am loaded with my rupees, rand, Euros and US dollars, I probably won't be posting here as often. I'll probably be cruising on yachts watching celebrity porn and chewing on cialis just for kicks.  


You'll just have to make do with this new single from Gossling. It's a pretty darn good consolation, right? Yes. You're damn straight it is. 

Dangerous Kids VS Bubble Wrapped Cloistered Kids

Do you let your kids do dangerous things? Me? Nope. Not really. Which is a shame really. It is. They live this cloistered life where they don't get to experience life's heady ups and it's way down downs. 


While my kids don't live a dangerous life, I do try and invest in them a sense of independence. I think independence in children is an absolutely positive thing. It's what you want. Well it's what I want anyhow. 


I lived a childhood where we tore up the streets riding our bikes 'round and 'round, through church yards, up and down gravel roads. We walked to the local BP station for mixed lollies. We walked bare foot through grass. We got sunburnt. I jumped into the pool. Mum had to fish me out. We lit fire crackers. We made bonfires. We made teepees out of sticks. I jumped into the pool. Mum had to fish a blue-faced me out. We drove through my grandparent's paddocks, me sitting on Gramps' knee steering. I got rose thorns in my fingers. I trod on bindis. I trod on prickles. I trod on bees. I trod on a nail. Yes. I trod on a lot. That's what happens when you have big feet like me. 


We had cats, dogs, rabbits, lambs, birds, fish and chickens for pets. Life was good. Life was full. And Mum and Dad cast out a net for us to catch our own experiences. 


And then I look at my children's experiences. They don't really play out on the street with the other kids. Society has in a way wrapped them up in bubble-wrap and cloistered our kids. We're raising a generation of kids that are bubble-wrapped. Heck, all the playgrounds these days are safety-conscious they've removed the fun from it. Where's the sense of adventure? 


One of my friends posted this TED Talk on their Facebook page (thanks to whoever that was) and I became inspired. 


I'm inspired to let my children experience more. I want them to play with fire - but with boundaries. I want them to pull things apart. I'm going to let my kids use knives. I'm going to give my kids tools to experience life to a fuller capacity. They can throw spears too - just not sure where we're going to do that. 


If for one thing alone, watching this has added a new dimension to my parenting. I want my kids to live a colourful and rich childhood. A pocket-knife is now on my shopping list for the Doctor's birthday.

Sneaky McSneakerson: (Kale) Smoothie

On Saturday the smalls were given some chocolate by a well-meaning friend. We're by no means perfect and pure, but I have been trying to remove refined sugars, colours and so on from our pantry - not in a nutty way - just in a 'we don't need this crap in our diet' way -  and replace it with more and more wholefood. 


All afternoon the kids had been in a slow decline, naturally becoming tireder towards the end of the day. (Halleluljah!)


And then they ate the chocolate.


Literally within minutes Tiny was bouncing off the walls. She was back on. I felt so defeated. Deflated. Meanwhile, she was a helium balloon. Up, up and away.


Fast-forward to this afternoon when I thought, I am going to gazump those little kittehs, whip up a knock-out Vitamix smoothie that they love to love.


I chucked in the following for a delicious smoothie that the Doctor rated as the highlight of his day (high-five!). Just wait 'til you see what I snuck in there:


1 x banana
1 x cup mixed berries (frozen)
2 apples
1 tablespoon of honey
1 small handful of kale. YES KALE! 


Blitz. Serve to two small children - and they will never know the kale is in there. Scout's honour. 


I was so stoked to find kale at my fruit and veg today. The lady at the shop I think was a little bewildered by my excitement - I've been trawling all the local shops looking for it.  It's in season now folks, and is super duper good for you. Get into it! 

There's No Better Way To Start A Week:: LEGO Giveaway

The Doctor and Tiny were ridiculously delighted to come home last week, after a long slog at school to discover a LEGO parcel for them.

Mama was delighted too - because the afternoon activity was completely taken care of.

We live, eat and breathe LEGO. Doctors may warn against this eating and breathing LEGO, but it's a way of life for us. And what's not to love?

The Doctor spends hours putting together LEGO kits, saves up his pocket money and Tooth Fairy money to save up for LEGO kits. LEGO LEGO LEGO. He wants to work at LEGO Land when he's big - and though he'll have to move to Denmark, he'll still come and visit me in holidays - so he says.

Yesterday Tiny busted out her Duplo and they had a LEGO 'expression session*' together, with their cousin Phoebe, building freestyle creations. It's pretty fun. And if I hadn't torn the house apart in an attempt to tidy it - I would have plonked myself right down next to them and created with them.

To celebrate everything good that is LEGO, LEGO have given me two sets of each of the below kits to give away to four completely, absolutely lucky people:

From one of the Doctor's favourite sets LEGO City:
Police Dog Van $49.99

The forest policeman has followed the robber to the cave where he’s stashed the stolen goods. It's time to release the dogs and lock him in the back of the police dog van before he gets up to any more mischief! Includes 2 minifigures: forest policeman and a robber.

From the new LEGO Friends range:
City Park Café $49.99

Andrea works at the City Park Café and loves dishing out tasty treats, when she is not singing into her broom and daydreaming of her big performance (I am clearly Andrea's kindred spirit). It’s the perfect place in Heartlake City for all of the LEGO Friends to meet for milkshakes and burgers or to chill and have fun! You can bake goodies for the girls in the café kitchen, complete with everything you need to serve up café cuisine instyle! Then hang in the outdoor dining area and have a milkshake in the sun! Order up a sweet snack, serve the customers and pay with LEGO money bricks!Includes 2 mini-doll figures: Andrea and Marie.

All you have to do is tell me in 25 words or less why you love LEGO for your chance to win.

Four winners will be drawn next Monday 1st April - no joking.Winners will be announced on PottyMouthMama as well as being contacted. 
Please ensure you include your email address. 
Competition open to Australian residents only. Sorry international peeps. 

EDIT:: Entries are now closed. Winners will be announced this afternoon. Thank you!

When Small People Won't Go To Bed. And Steam Comes Out Your Ears.

I am like this hamster running on one of those wheels. Running. Running. Running. And getting nowhere fast. 


Tiny is totally punishing me lately. 


All week she's been a reluctant sleeper, there have been raised voices. There's been hollow threats. And a threat of punishment (and I struggle with this because I can't think of anyway to punish her - because her response is always so non-chalant).  Once she's finally wrestled down to sleep - I find myself in the middle of the night pushed to the edge of the bed - with no covers on me. Cold, uncomfortable, and with no pillow.


This week her bed linen had been changed after an accident, and had literally been replaced, when she came out to me and told me her bed was wet. 


She denied denied denied, then blamed it on the Doctor and said he wee'd on her bed. I told her that the Doctor didn't do it (because I know the Doctor better than she does), finally she admitted that no, the Doctor had nothing to do with it. Instead she had been playing with water on her bed, and now her doona was wet through. 


I was pretty cross. 


It was one of those nights when you're like a jack-in-a-box, up and down, up and down, putting the smalls back into bed. Then they come out again. And so on for around 15 minutes. Then the steam starts to pour out your ears, and you walk them back and tell them once more - don't come out again. It's late. It's bed time. 


So this is where we were. I stripped the bed again when there was an almighty crash. I peer into the Doctor's bedroom and he's inadvertently smashed his bedside lamp. Glass everywhere.


If someone was checking my blood pressure, I think that cuff thing they put on would have been torn to shreds as I turned into the Incredible Hulk. 


Seriously. The bed humdrum is killing me. And not softly. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Images - despite being totally unrelated were something that made the smalls and I laugh today. We went to visit my sister, Sarah at Calico + Ivy today, and en route to get some smoothies, we spotted a plane vapour trailing his way through the sky. 'Marry Me'. We stood with our mouths agape looking skyward, causing other pedestrians to do the same. By the time the pilot got to me the marry had blown away and looked like a mangled version of the word. Whoever commissioned that - I hope they got in quickly. 

Saturday Sessions

Both versions of this song are gold. Gold. Gold. 


And Gossling - wow that girl can sing. And 360. He's solid gold. 


You could say I like this song. A whole lotta lotta. 

What Do You Do All Day?

Richard Scarry. One of my all-time favourite children's author/illustrators. 

Our Onegirl fleur. It is so loved. And a lot of love comes from me.

My knitting. Which is going nowhere fast. Mum, I need you to fix it. 

I don't have much of any value to share with you. 

So tell me, what do you do all day? 

Well Hello Mr Darcy

Mr Darcy. Ahh. The delectable Mr Darcy. Moody. Broody. Intelligent. Slightly awkward. Well-spoken. Moody. Broody. Mysterious Mr Darcy.


Where would we be without Mr Darcy? And Colin Firth walking out of the lake in *that* white shirt. Swoon. 


Here friends. This is here for your Friday viewing pleasure. Yes. Yes. You can certainly thank me later. Sigh. But for now, quick, grab a fan, I feel faint. 


image sources:
1. here
2. here
3. eeek - sorry not sure
4. brookish


this post comes courtesy of Tom - who inspired this post. As Tasmania's very own Mr Darcy. Thank you Tom.

The Face of Birth

I am really excited to see this documentary ASAP. If you're a long time reader of PMM, you'll know I am very passionate about birth. If you're new to PMM, FYI - I am very passionate about birth.


It features one of my all-time favourites, Sheila Kitzinger. During my pregnancies I read a lot of her books. I love her, she's pragmatic and passionate and just down-to-earth and smart. 


And Michael Odent - the man gives me goosebumps. 


You can read Jodi's post on The Face of Birth here.

There's So Much To Love:: Lanvin

There is just so much for me to love about this Lanvin ad. I love Karen Elson for one thing. Steven Miesl for another. And the rad dancing. And then there's the matter of love for Lanvin. It's big and completely unattainable. So I just dream about it instead.

Tying Laces. And Other Stuff

We are currently drowning under a pile of Year 1 homework.


When I was in Year 1 we didn't have homework. Well certainly not to this extent. (And when I was a girl Paddle Pops were 60 cents, and I walked home by myself.) This week we have a daily reader, homework books, Mathletics, and a talk on rhinos to do. Fo' realz. 


Amidst all this, we're teaching the Doctor how to tie his shoelaces. You can pooh pooh me all you like - and say we are late bloomers to this, but I am not one to push, and we do things at our own speed, when we are good and ready. 


On the weekend I found this video that I thought was a cute way to teach your kid how to tie their shoelaces. 

Ordinary people must be saying: "But PMM, why do you need a video?" Well a couple of years ago I discovered that I don't tie my shoelaces correctly, I have some funky way of tying them, and it's not completely successful. It still serves me well, but I thought I'll relearn with the Doctor so we can learn together.


So I am now learning to tie my laces too. 

I May Have Rigor Mortis

Yesterday, as punishment to myself for not walking or running or doing anything for almost two weeks, I totally caned myself. I went on a six km walk/jog - or wag as I affectionately call it. 


I branched out of my usual walk/run/jog/feel-like-I-am-dying and did lunges, and manoevred my way around the streets like a crab. Thankfully no one else was about (that I could so), so I don't have to feel so self-conscious about what everyone's thinking about that nutty woman. 


And then it started to rain. I was only 2/3 way through my planned run - and it started raining and raining. As further punishment, I made myself stay put - where once I would have scurried home. I may have even pretended I was preparing myself for Tough Mudder. 


Over 6 kms later, I went home. Half elated, half dog tired. Then I forced myself to carry some heavy hard rubbish from the back of the house to the foothpath. Four trips in total. I am such a beefcake. 


My sneakers were trashed, I was covered in mud - and so I finally made it into the shower. 


Sadly I neglected to stretch *forehead slap* and as a result, I am now walking like the Tin Man. I think I've got a severe case of rigor mortis. 


And then I dragged my sorry ass out of bed this morning, and did it all over again. 

More From Yesterday: PR Tips

Yes. You Gotta pay the writer. Suck it up. If you want us, we're worth it, then pay us.


You'd never go to the car mechanic and think they'll do it for free, right?  A lawyer? A doctor?  Nope.
I studied writing at uni. I paid my time for Patsy Cline.

Same principle applies to writers.

This is via my awesome friend Carrie. Thank you Carrie!

The Poles Between PR and Blogging: 7 Tips

In the last few weeks I have been gazumped by PR requests. Email after email vying for space on my blog.

I often find myself in a quandary.

As a blogger, sometimes the information is totally irrelevant. I don't want to know about it. And I fathom a safe guess that my readers don't either. So I politely decline. Or lately, I just ignore (which seems terribly rude, but I have time-VS-email issues people - as I am sure you do too).

I've worked on my blog for over four years. I'm not just going to toss it away to be one big merry commercial. I must maintain its integrity. For my readers - and most of all, for myself.

And on the flip side, I've worked in PR for almost 13 years (my oh my, old old old).

I know what it's like working in-house and agency side. Clients want results. They don't want to hear excuses. They want their brand in bright lights, they want column inches, they want pixels. They want the world.

So I really want to help those who are pitching to me. I do. I want to help them.

But if PR pitches to bloggers continue the way they are now - things are going to roll backwards. Or implode.

The blogger in me questions every pitch sent my way. And I use the word "pitch" incredibly loosely here, because most of the time, all I am receiving is a generic:

"Dear Blogger"

or

"Dear Lexi, [insert gushing paragraph here about how much I love your blog]"

or

"hi PottyMouthMama"

or worse to me still - an embedded email that I can't even view half the time. Or just crap. I mean come now - seriously. Read my blog. I don't want to try your doggone baby purees because - I do not have a baby. And you could lazily scroll through my top posts to discover this for yourself. I'm not asking you to do my family tree and trawl through reams of geneaology. Nope.

Even worse. Inaccurate emails. Emails with titles: Interview Opportunity. And then I scroll through to look for who the interview is with - and there's nothing. Or some dubious subject matter. I could rattle off a heck of a lot. But for everyone's benefit - I won't.

I've just asked to be removed from their mailing list instead.

I know working in PR is busy. You have to measure your success. You must be accountable. And you have clients barking at your heels.  But respect the blogger.

So this is to those working in PR who want to learn about pitching to bloggers. Who really value quality content. Who really value an engaged audience. And who really want to do the right thing by their client.

1. READ READ READ:  Read the blogs you want to pitch to. Would you pitch blindly to someone in 'ye olde media'? If you answered yes, then you need to step away from your emails, and take a good hard look at yourself. I don't mean read four years of PottyMouthMama - but really, just become familiar with what I talk about, who I am, and if you truly think your brand is something that's going to fit in this space. And then you can start to build a relationship. KEY POINT!

2. WHO'S THAT CHICK? Find out my name. It's not rocket science. There's a reason why direct marketing companies pay thousands of dollars to access databases so they can tailor their communications to recipients. My name is not 'Blogger' - thank you Mum and Dad. It's not even PottyMouthMama. It's Lexi.

3. STOP SENDING GENERIC EMAILS: Please. For everyone's sake. You're wasting a lot of emails, as well as your time, my time, and everyone else's time. If you send out generic pitches - look at your ROI. Bet you're not getting much bang for your buck.

Don't do blanket mail outs. Tailor absolutely everything.

In my role as PR Manager, I've chosen to work with a handful of bloggers who I respect, trust and admire. Unfortunately, I don't currently have a budget to pay them. However, I offer them unique angles, I offer them exclusives, sometimes I might send them a gift. But I never ever expect anything in return.

Your client is not a charity - and the blogger owes you nothing.

4. EMAIL BOMBING:  I get a lot of emails every week. I'm not being cocky. A lot of them are spam. *Shudder* And some of them are from PR professionals, forwarding their original email because they haven't heard from me, and they want to check I received their email. And they've done a search and I haven't written anything about their client/product. Why not?

Why not?

Because I don't want to. Because it doesn't fit with my blog.

There should be no sense of entitlement.

Unless I want to. Unless I think my readers want to hear from you. Otherwise, I won't write about it.

5. SPONSORED POSTS: I started writing sponsored posts for shoe money. Clearly I don't buy a lot of shoes because I don't do a lot of sponsored posts. And I will only ever do a sponsored post if I truly believe it's cohesive with my blog.

The struggle with keeping my blog pure - and the need - and sometimes want - to make a little extra pocket money - it's a fine line. But when I do a sponsored post - I try to maintain my voice. I try to keep it relevant.

6. PRODUCT REVIEWS:  If you want me to review your product, well then it's a pretty good idea if you send me a sample. I am on the mailing list of one PR practitioner - and at the end it always says: "if you want samples, let me know". Not once, not twice, but at least four times I have replied saying "yes please send me a sample so I can try it for myself and legitimately write about it". And each time she replies "Sorry all the samples are gone." Well then BOOM! I'll make your emails be gone from my inbox. Simple really.

7. TIMING! Inviting me to an event is nice. It is. And thank you. But give me a bit of notice. Four days notice to drop everything for lunch? Yep. Not coming. I've got a busy life and I can't shuffle things at that late notice either. Same applies for sending me media releases. Don't send them to me on the day whatever you're spruiking happens. I'm a busy woman - as are all bloggers. I'm not usually struggling for content. And I won't drop everything to bang out some paras on your product on the day. Nope.

**BONUS TIP: If you are inviting me to an event, please make sure I live in the city the event is taking place in. Unless you're willing to cover my travel and accommodation costs.

For more on this topic head over to Edenland.


 image - me with Allen's Retro Party Mix teeth. Because I can. It's me in PR mode.

And So It Is.

Clearly I must obsess over Alex Winston's hair, and the length of it.

My target?

To grow mine back to this length.

Believe it or not, it was this length, then I chopped it and looked like a North Shore mum. *GASP*

My MIL told me that, I promptly booked a hair appointment and had it all chopped off.

But Michelle Williams. Still tempted.

Come now. Hair grows back.

I remember sitting in the hairdresser's seat at 12, after saving up for yonks. It was below my shoulders and I told her to cut it all off. She asked if my Mum knew. I said no, but I was paying and it was my hair.

She cut it off into an awesome concave bob.

BOOM!

Hair fetish born.

Indeed. It Is Friday.

I have a sister. Anna. She is funny and colourful and super creative. She can just *BOOM!* make stuff - and when she and my other sister, Sarah, get together, they do stuff - and it's awesome. And then combine that with my Mum, and *DOUBLE BOOM* the three of them make stuff. And wow. It's pretty cool.

I missed out on that creative gene. I think it was passed down by my grandmother, Mars. She was a woman who could knit, crochet and embroider like her eyes were telecopes. Seriously. The best birthday presents were always made by Mars and Gramps and were highly coveted. I still have the doll house, and all the jumpers, and all the dolls that were made by them, made with so much LOVE!

Mars even made a Princess Diana doll. So cool. I will find it and document it because, well the woman was bloody amazing.

I didn't get passed down too many visual creative genes. I got wordy genes from my other grandmother Nonny. Well I think that anyway.

Anyway. This is a long-winded way to say, here's your Friday song, gifted to me by my sister Anna (who likes Lana del Rey - but I won't hold that against her). I'm paying it forward .

With no further adieu, I introduce Alex Winston. Anyone by the name of Alex is alright in my books. AHEM!

HAPPY FRIDAY!

Not Even Close

A pre-PS - you should listen to this song before reading this post.

Well. Hello there. I've had a wee break and thought I had better report in.

What kind of blogger leaves their blog unattended for two days? Me. Sorry about that.

This week has been busy and interesting, and I've felt long moments of anxiety - where an almost skull cap of tension comes over me, and I don't want anyone near me, I feel fractious. I feel claustrophobic. It's not a good feeling - and to be completely frank - because what else am I (?) I do not like it.

But I am ok. I am definitely ok. Fear not for me. I will (hopefully bounce back) as a more vibrant me. I'm painting my nails in Darling Showpony as testament to this hope.

So I turn to you dear reader. I need food for the soul. When everything's dried up in me, and I feel like the marrow is completely sucked dry, please tell me of your good tidings. I want to hear every sordid detail. SPILL!

image source: green diary
Post-PS - you should now listen to this song - 1. for the song; 2. because I feel like I miss Robert and 3: the palette. I wanted to be one of those girls. HAWT!

Post - PPS - I always wondered how Robert got those ka-TING noises. I presume it's ninjas battling in the background. It's a given, right?

Better Than The Original?

I'm going out on a limb here.

I think this is better than the moody broody original.

Big ups to my friend Yonesay for shining the light on this gem.

Tiny the Tyrant

Tiny is putting me through my paces these last couple of weeks.

That little innocent face? Yes. That little person, hamming it up for the cameras, has been a complete and utter whirlwind of mischief.

First stop - weeing on the Doctor's bed in the morning.

When asked why she did this - her response:
"I couldn't see the toilet."

Second stop - a number two not in the loo - in the bathtub, together with a bath towel and a bath mat. The girl is gross.

She did not even deny this.

Third stop on this whistle stop tour of havoc - this time - a jolly big wee on her bed.

And today friends, I went to pick the Doctor up from school - I pulled the scooters out of the boot because I thought - what the hey - it will be fun! Tiny rode her scooter all of 1 metre, then threw herself on the ground and chucked an almighty wobbly. Almighty in the sense that every other parent who walked past gave me that knowing look, and I almost listed her on eBay. Yes. That kind of almighty look.

At home she's been turning her bedroom into a librarian's nightmare by tossing all her books all over the floor. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Together with a nice mix of clean and worn clothes. I've given up assessing whether the clothes need washing or not, fold half of them and toss the others into the wash.

Then there's the kamikaze attacks on the Doctor. I arrived home from work last week to find the Doctor sporting a hefty bite mark on his cheek. Seriously?

And on a separate day, the smalls were in the bath, I walked in to find the Doctor completely covered in scratch marks, and Tiny reclining at the other end of the bath. They now have separate baths because they fight too much.

What is going on with Tiny? Do I need an intervention? Or just a holiday?

Eating. Making. Creating.

How great is this animation? I think it's so beauitful and inspiring.

And I really love guacamole and want some. Right now!

I've Got A Crush

On this Karen Walker Long Dress coat - but not in this green - in this green.

I'm not getting it, but a gal can dream right? She deserves to be warm this Winter, right?

Gil Scott-Heron VS Rihanna + Drake

VS

This here is your Friday mash-up. Play them separately or play them together. Which I liek to do.

Which do you prefer?

Some Snaps: Some Week

I have had a crazy busy week and feel as though I have whiplash as a result.

Early to work, late home. Oh man - I have never felt so blitzed. Well I have. But not for a long time. Totally spent. I have barely seen the smalls and Matt his week - and that my friends takes the wind out of my sails.

Date night was Monday night and it was one of our best ever. Without doubt, date night was the highlight of my week.
Matt and I even held hands. ZOMG! WTF!

Outrageous I know. A PDA on date night. Well, around these parts it's mandatory.

Make Kony Famous: Kony 2012

Ther'es nothing more powerful than an idea.
Get involved. Let's make this revolution happen.
Get on Twitter, share it on Facebook, yell it from the rooftops, plaster it up on your local walls, chat around your water cooler.

Review: SUV in the City

This post is sponsored by Nuffnang.


Last week I got to test-drive the new Mitsubishi ASX. When I saw it, I thought, ‘yep, now there’s a gas guzzler if I ever saw one’. I drove that baby back and forth to work all week – and when I returned it, it was only just on the half-way mark. My regular car uses a heck of a lot more fuel than that per week – and it’s a smaller car.


So there’s surprise number one for me. The Mitsubishi ASX offers fabulous fuel economy. And when I’m seeing petrol prices yo-yoing like Lindsay Lohan’s hemline – well I’m thinking fuel economy is right up there for me.


I cruised the streets like it was nobody’s business. I was perched up there, with a great view of the traffic. When parking, the reverse camera lit up in the rear-view mirror – and I felt like some kind of spy and it helped me reverse park smoothly. That there people – that technology, wowsers.


Lunchtime on Friday and the five members of our team trickled out to the carpark and we all piled in to go to lunch. There were several revelations that there was so much room for legs, handbags and chatting – and the sleek leather interior. This was Sex In the City meets The Stig.


When you turn the car on, the door mirrors open out, when you lock the car, the fold in – I am always doing this manually to our car, since someone whacked ours off a few months ago. It’s like it has little ears. So cute.


And of course, paramount to buying a car: safety features. SRS Airbags; an energy absorbing front section to offer occupants protection; reverse camera (which I used for parking and should not replace checking around your car before backing out); reverse parking sensors (my BFFs); active traction control; ABS and so much more.


For more information check out their website here.

LEGO LEGO LEGO

I showed this to the Doctor and his jaw literally dropped. This is probably where he's going to work when he's a big boy.

Toothless

The Doctor has lost his second top tooth over the weekend.

As he noted, it's the first tooth he's lost at home, all the others have fallen out at school - and only one made it home.

Not to worry. I wasn't pinning all my hopes and dreams on those lost teeth.

The Tooth Fairy came and went, and now he's checking his other teeth for wobblies - the Tooth Fairy is a lucrative deal.

It dawned on me today how big my boy is growing. He'll be seven before too long, which means I've been a mama for just as long.

There's the revelation that old people are right. The older you get, the quicker the time seems to pass. I can remember clutching that newborn to my chest after two hours of pushing.

Stuff On A Saturday

I'm having a quiet day. Cleaning out my wardrobe. Hanging with my smalls. Doing the washing. It's banal, and I kind of like that on a Saturday.

I found this clip yesterday. It's keyed in to how I feel right now. A bit blue. At the tail end of what's been a shitty week.

But there are brighter things on the horizon. Sparkly baubles in the guise of Bonnie Prince Billy on Monday. And Mellie Waugh's show before that.

And you? How are you this Saturday?

Creating. Helping. Living.

The Creative Spirit from Droga5 Sydney on Vimeo.


I feel so very lucky that my sister shared this with me.

I won't lie. I shed a tear.

So many people are marginalised by today's society. Pushed to the side. Too hard basket for you! - Well that's the way it seems.

Which is why I've loved meeting Peter, Frank and my walking-gang. There is no space for cookie-cutter personalities.  

So anyway, I'm not going to bang on about this clip. You really just do have to watch it for yourself.

The power this clip yields? I want to work with one of those companies that is part of it. Droga5. Hear that?

Read more here at Creative Spirit.