Pinks

Today I went with one of my favourite friends, Emilie,  to Bread & Circus. If you haven't already been there, the styling, palette and interiors are enough to make it a treat - let alone the food. Amazing. 

Em and I talked about the pinks. From the cups through to the plates, to the tiles, the menus. Everything is pink. It might sound like Barbie vomited everywhere, but you are so, so wrong. So wrong. It's just perfectly perfect. 

It got me thinking why this pink interior resonates so much. 

Pink represents compassion, nurturing and love. It also makes me think of my childhood, when colour was so pivotal, and I couldn't get enough of this candy shade. 

Which makes me think about how I can work this into my wardrobe. Next post - best of the pinks. I'm going to go internet shopping and share my finds. 


Are you loving pink?

The Sisterhood of Smudged Make-Up. And Skirts Tucked Into Stockings.

The other night I got home and realised that I had eyeshadow smeared down the side of my eye. I don't know how long it had been that way, for all I know, it was all night. I'd been out socialising, and as far as I was concerned I spent the night looking like I had a partial black eye. Hawt or what?

And just the other day at work I caught sight of my face in the mirror. My lipstick had done a neat lick up the side so I looked not dissimilar to the Joker. How long for? I don't know.

Pair this with the fact that a few weeks ago I was sitting at my desk, went to stand up and realised that my dress was tucked into my stockings. I'd just walked through the whole office, up the stairs of the main entrance, and back to my desk. How visible were my knickers? I don't know.

The question is: why didn't anyone tell me I looked like a massive goober? Why people, why?

I always make a point of telling people (subtly) if they have lipstick on their teeth, or their mascara has run, or even tucking tags in for them, simply because it's embarrassing going back to the mirror and discovering you look dishevelled. Or have your dress tucked into your knickers. And that you walked. All. Through. The. Office and the foyer, and everywhere this way. Gulp.

So this is my point, why don't we have a sisterhood of smudged make-up? I solemnly pledge and promise that I will tell my sisters if things have gone awry in the interests of not looking like me, a goober, in public.

image via here

The Stop Sign

Back when I was in my early twenties, I knew this guy Craig. Via his work, and my work, we'd run into each other often. Me being an idiot, and him being a goofball - well he earned himself a nickname. Craig The Stop Sign.

I called him that. My friends called him that. And pretty soon - many random people were calling him Craig The Stop Sign.

I remember a friend of mine calling me early one day - after sighting Craig the Stop Sign - and telling me how she'd called out in a too-loud voice: "Good morning Craig the Stop Sign!" - And the puzzled look he gave her.

Going out on the town one night - everyone was calling him this new nickname - and quite frankly - he was puzzled.

It was the Craig the Stop Sign snowball effect.

I loved Tism - those super intelligent blokes fronting up for an anonymous tune or two - and by default, I thought I was equally as witty by attaching this song to Craig.

After a few years of this inside joking going outside, and me thinking it was so witty and clever of me, I discovered something big.

The Tism song I had been quoting - well - I had been mis-quoting. For over a year.

It's not Craig the Stop Sign. It's Greg. It's damn well Greg the Stop Sign.

Moral here? Check the lyrics before you attach it to someone.

Random story over.

This Is Me. Just Another Mother Blogger.

This is me.
Lexi.
PottyMouthMama.
Worker bee by day.
Mama and wife by night.

I was thinking about mummy bloggers and thinking how that tag does not fit me. Well I don't think so anyway. That tag makes me really uncomfortable. I get kind of itchy. I am no expert parent. And sometimes - a lot lately - I am sad how little time I have to spend with my children, that is quality time. I get home, I am tired. Sometimes snappy. I hate that. I feel so distant sometimes. There's a disconnect between work life and family life. I struggle with it. Battle with it daily. I don't find the work-family juggle very easy and it can sometimes make me feel immensely sad. Right to my bones. 

But we gots to live.

And someone once went to town on me in the comments section, saying that I chose this and that it's my own fault. Well. I guess she didn't read my blog very carefully. I work four days, and when I am home, Matt works. We have that one day together, and Sydney sucks you dry. To your very marrow.

But back to my blog. Life is this imperfect thing, and so is my parenting. But, I am a mama, but I am also so much more. And my blog is more than parenting and sometimes not so much about parenting. And since I've returned to the paid workforce, I feel distant from the mummy blogger tag. Actually I think I've always been distant from the mummy blogger tag (EEK!). I could go 'round and 'round in circles with this discussion by myself. I won't. But I could.

I think Anna sums it up well here.

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This is me wearing a necklace my friend Pip gave me, a few years ago. I love wearing it. It makes me think of her and all the awesome sauce she spreads throughout the world.

I have other things that have been gifted to me that remind me of special people in my life. My Mum gave me one of her vintage kaftans. I wore it throughout my first pregnancy, with the Doctor in my belly. I love that kaftan, though it's getting a bit threadbare, it's so loved and makes me think of my Mum.

I love wearing things that remind me of people. It puts me in a good mood and makes me think they're kind of looking after me that day. In a weird way. That might sound kooky. Apologies. I might be a little kooky.

End of rambling post.
At ease soldiers.

Queen's Birthday

To ward off the grey that has been this weekend, check out this little magenta vignette. Pretty flowers from a friend, Tiny's Tupperware and some new yarn I picked up at Calico and Ivy.

Charmed, I'm sure!

Thank You

Do you send thank you notes? I do. I love sending thank you notes. I love receiving thank you notes.

Thank you to each and everyone of you who read and comment on my blog. I am so grateful.
Thanks to everyone who has voted for me in the Kidspot Top 50 Bloggers.
Thanks to my beautiful friend for designing me such a rad new header.
Thank you to my beautiful Mum for spending two weeks with us to help with the smalls while I work and Matt does his prac teaching.
Thanks to my generous Dad for loaning her to us.

An old friend told me once that friend's are reflections of yourselves, and that's a nice way to think of friends.

Since having kids I think some friends have dropped off, but I've picked up some inspiring, wonderful friends along the way. Thank you.

Here's A Big Question

So friends, gather 'round, a little closer. You up the back? Don't be shy, there's a seat up the front here, come on, yes, ok, that's good. Now, let's begin.

Facebook. I'm on it. Are you?

I'm on it personally, I'm on it professionally, and I'm on it blog-ally (come join us, we can chat - in real time.. Sort of.).

But here's the big question.

What happens when someone de-friends you? And don't think I didn't notice. I've got a whole database on an Excel spreadsheet that alphabetizes my friends. I roll call every morning. I notice. Trust me. When that number drops, I notice.

And now I've figured out who defriended me. Yep. I did.

There's part of me that wants to re-friend, but once you've been de-friended, can you re-friend? My head and my heart are aligned - they've signed an allegiance - they both say no.

But there's part of me, maybe it's ego, that wants to say YES! YES I can re-friend.

And so it is, this Friday night, can you re-friend a de-friend?

image via Vanishing Point

Edit:: I definitely don't keep an Excel spreadsheet of people on Facebook. In the name of comedy, I was hamming it up. Work with me peeps!

Have You Seen This?

One of my all-time favourite friends gave me a copy of the BBC's 'Outnumbered'.

Have you seen it? If you haven't, I demand you RUSH, do not walk, or even run, I say RUSH out and get your filthy mitts on a copy because it is officially HILAIRE!

It's a British comedy about life with kids. It's largely improvised. It's wholly funny. It's spot on. It's ace of base. And I can watch it over and over again. And I command you do too if you know what's good for you.

Another Good Reason To Learn To Crochet

Last night, while trawling the interwebs (I am like some crazed fisherman setting out my nets to see what I can haul in) I came across something so super fantastic you won't even believe your eyes. In my quest to find that Chanel bag that is pictured down there (scroll down because I can't be bothered to link) I came across this piece of genius. In fact it's not genius. It's Genius. With a capital G.

Stephanie Syjuco: The Counterfeit Crochet Project (Critique of a Political Economy). I am four years late to this party but I am still turning up. Crocheters are counterfeiting designer handbags of all the big labels: Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Dolce e Gabbana, Prada, Gucci etc.

Do you know how cool this is? All my gal pals have beautiful handbags and I troll around with my vintage bags that are all dying a slow and ungraceful death. I could rock one of these crocheted beauties. Imagine their faces. GOLD! It's a statement piece and totes legitimately cool! Get the feeling me likey? ME LIKEY!

The official website is here. But don't go there without me. I want to come too.

A Real Community Service

My friend Sheilsy posted this link on Facebook. It's worth a peek. Because as you know I like anything silly and ridiculous and I love really dumb ads.

I am still laughing at the above billboard. The photo quality is very poor. But I had to post it because your day would not have been complete without it. Trust me. I'm a professional.

CrackerJACKS!

Who turned up the heat? Who? Sheesh! It is hawt. Ridiculously so.

Sweltering Sydney. Rainy one day, stinking hot the next.

There you go Clover, there's our new marketing campaign. I am so hawt I am sweating up a storm, and it's not even a glow, it's more a wilted flower sweaty betty-ness.

This afternoon the smalls are in the bath. Fighting over soap. Who woulda thunk it? We don't have soap in the bath often. Might sound weird, but with eczema in the family we tend to use QV Oil or Alpha Keri. So they're fighting over a beautiful block of handmade soap. It smells so good I will not disturb them!

Tonight we're heading out to Joe Frost's Drawing & Painting show at Watters Gallery. Joe is a swell guy, so if you get a chance to check out his show, do. If you come along, say hello. I'll be the one doing circus tricks with two sweaty but sweet smelling smalls.

Sore Neck. Sore Back.

Well we carved up the dance floor at my friend's wedding. I now have a sore neck and sore back to prove it. Thankfully no sore head. Next time I'll have to work in some pre-dance stretches.

It was such a beautiful, memorable afternoon. The bride was a knock-out and looked so glamorous. It's so funny to think back the fifteen years or so we've been friends and remember how horse crazy she was at school. And our days working at McDonald's together (we were super naughty and used to get separated on our shifts together we talked too much!). We had late night slumber parties and used to ring up randoms from the phone book and ask if their fridge was running. Wildly funny stuff. Trust me. It was!

Being part of their wedding was such an honour. I managed to take some nice shots - though damn fool, I didn't realise my batts were dying.

Such a happy, happy day. x

PS - Just drew the winner of the Le Creuset baking dishes - it's number 40 - Little Eagle. If you're wondering how I came to number 40 - I had to take out two Australian commenters! Congratulations Little Eagle please email me your address.

The Smallest Stitches

Following on from the Stitches & Craft show, I've been busting myself to get cracking on the printed fabric I bought from Lisa Tilse. It's going to be part of a quilt for one of my friend's new babes.

My curse per stitch ratio is particularly high at the moment, quite impressive really. I am quite talented when it comes to getting my floss in a tangle. I would even say I am excelling at tangling it. Maybe I should try embroidering cursive fonts. Get it? Get it?!

Underneath is a vintage tablecloth I found once at a sale. It had already been printed up with the embroidery pattern, but it had never realised it's potential (ie it's never been embroidered), so I've been working on that too.

Random Acts of Kindness

Tiny and I went to make an appointment today for her vaccinations (what a treat!) and on our way out an elderly woman made comment that 'you're lucky to be at that end of life'.

I am. We are.

It's made me really think about the importance of things and it was a particularly apt comment after such an uneventful weekend. That small comment that she may have thought was a flyaway sentence has stuck with me, in a good way. I am grateful.

That is random act of kindness number one.

Random act of kindness number two - I received a surprise parcel in the mail. I love mail. I love surprises. I love books. And I love vintage. This combines many of my favourite things. This book is ace to the power of ace. I never knew it existed. Now it's my bed time reading. Thank you kind friends! (One thing, one of the smalls has taken off with the card, and now I can't for the life of me find it. Once I do, I will email you - eep!). So thoughtful, and I am really, super touched - you're the bomb.

Now it's my turn to bestow a random act of kindness on someone. Look out world!

Birthday Celebrations

It's my birthday tomorrow. Hip. Hip. We had a wee afternoon tea at Sparkle Cupcakery yesterday with some friends (more on SC later).

Here's Matt. He is just learning to smile. Here's me. Chin-chin!

Here's a half eaten cupcake.

Life Rolls

It was just this morning when Tiny and I were on our morning walk that I spyed a fattened bee. It made me think about the minutiae of life. About how no matter what, life will continue, in whatever guise.

The bees will still visit the flowers.

The sun will still peek through the cracks in the curtains.

The grass will slowly make it's way through the dirt.

The birds will still make songs.

Life continues. And it's kind of comforting.

And it's just this afternoon that I've discovered that one of Matt's great colleagues died yesterday, after a long battle. I'm thinking of her and her family. And all the great stories Matt told me of her. She was a buoyant, vivacious lady. I know she will be missed, and fondly remembered by many.

If you can, please give money to Lifehouse. Maybe this way we can help those who need it, in whatever small way it is.

Birthdays On The Rise

Matt's birthday is in just nine sleeps. Egads. I am not even close to being organised. I hate last minute birthday shopping. I like to get things months in advance so that I have time to forget what I've bought. I love choosing things that I think the recipient will lurve. But yikes. Matt's birthday. I had good intentions. Such good intentions.

I was going to make him a cushion (apparently it's all about the cushion for me at the moment, but what else can you make a man when you're a novice stitcher?!). I'd better get my skates on and start a-stitching otherwise this cushion train is about to depart. Initially I had thought I'd use some of the doilies I bought, but then I took a long hard look at myself and thought - what type of man wants a doily cushion? Probably not my man is the answer to that one folks. Matt + doilies is a little bit weird methinks. But Matt plus linen and stitching = ace of base.

Luckily for me, one of my good friends gave me this gorgeous Japanese embroidery book yesterday. Jam packed full of beautiful images and ideas. I would be hard-pressed to walk away from this book unenthused for embroidery. So this weekend imagine me stitching in secret. Commando rolling while couching, it's going to be a hard task, but I think I'm up to it. If all else fails it will just have to be one of those un-secret birthday presents.

Polka Dot Kerrrazy!

Merde! Blogger is once again at it, rotating my photos. I've tried rectifying the situation, but to no avail, so my friends, turn your head instead.

Today we went to the MCA to see The Mirrored Years by Yayoi Kusama. I was expecting polka dots, and she sure delivered. Spotty mirrors on arrival, spots, spots, spots, and - in my books, you can not fault a good polka dot. The Doctor really dug the mirrored room, and in fact, most of the exhibition (particularly the spotty ultraviolet room - super cool!). We met up with one of my best friends and looked around, enjoyed a chai latte, and then caught the train home.

Fact: The Doctor woke up at 4:30am this morning. Here's cheers to daylight savings ending. Who wakes up at this time by choice? Certainly not me. I'm longing for a sleep in. I've been reminisicing about sleeping in all weekend. These vibes did not rub off on the smalls no matter how many psychic thoughts I put out there.

Magical March: Day 17

Happy St. Patrick's. Or if you're the Doctor - happy Patrick's day. Dressed head to toe (including green undies) in green, off he went to pre-school. So. Darn. Excited.

Happy St. Patrick's day to all my Irish readers. All one of you. Top of the morning to you Sheilsy.

Progress Report: Not To Be Sneezed At

Dear Diary,

So I continued on with my wonky little project to hand.

Dear Diary, I had to intermittently take breaks because for some unknown reason, I felt a lot of pressure with this stitchery.. I'm worried she'll think it's too wonky.

But besides some little hearts I want to add - and I mean little as in teeny tiny, I think it's done. Cute? Quaint? Will my friend know how I love her so?

What do you think Diary?

I'm starting another, and I hope to be a little more lucid with this one. I'm thinking of letting go of the uptight me, the one that's worrying, and just go forth and create. I hope this works dear Diary, because otherwise I may have to take stress leave from my embroidery.

Pimp Stitch always has some awesome ideas. Inspirations. Colours. Ideas.. Ahh I can tap that.

In other reports, I have three things that I am sending to Pip. In exchange, she's sending me three things. I hope she likes the three things I have carefully selected for her. I'm doing well with my decluttering. I've already taken two big boxes to the op shop, with plans for more next week. Monday - Post Office.

Anyway diary, I'm feeling weary. Must go brush my hair one hundred times, repaint my fingernails, apply my fake tan with one hand and stare longingly at my Rick Astley posters. A busy day.

xxx