Tory Burch for FitBit

So I was doing some FitBit research the other day to get myself back motivated to exercise when I discovered that Tory Burch has done a collab - and this is the result. 

Holy cow. Fitness just got fab. Well more fab than fitness can be. It got fashionable. It got glam. Oh I don't know. It just got a heck of a lot cooler. Look at this collab for goodness sakes. 

I've long written about how fickle I am when it comes to fitness. And that if I have something new, something exciting to wear - I am more likely to go and move my body. You can only imagine my glee. 

When a luxury lifestyle brand such as Tory Burch works with FitBit - I think it's time I put my pedal to the metal, and got out moving. 

With three pieces to the collection: the open fretwork pendant (my favourite), the brass hinged bracelet and the silicone printed bracelet - there's definitely something to suit a range of styles. I imagine these pieces will fit seamlessly into everyday so no one need even know you're ravenously counting your steps. 

Speaking of which - definitely read this piece by David Sedaris about his obsession with his FitBit. Funniest article EVER. 

Shop now. 

Ordinary Walks of Life

Fresh days bring so much with them. They're good as a clean piece of paper. Full of promise, they can unfurl in so many ways.

I've managed to pull myself out of bed early to go walks a couple of times this week - I'm up to 75% of my four walk target. I could go into bonus time a la Luigi and Mario. 

On my walks I've been busy observing. With nothing but my mind to occupy me (oh and that magpie that kept trying to swoop me - ice cream bucket anyone?), my eye has been seeking out small beauties. 

Simple beauties. 

They're all around when you're attentive. It's the season when spiders decorate the trees with their weaving. And when Mother Nature leaves a fine mist to highlight them strung up in the branches. They're beautiful artworks, and if you're very careful, you can find them hidden in odd places. 

Or how about an ocean walk when there's no one around. The rain has scared everyone off. It's just you, the sand and the water lapping. The sunrise creeping up, quietly, but the surety is comforting. 

It's my reminder that there are bigger things in life. 

Walking:: Internal Talking

Last night when I was walking I saw parrots and rosellas fly up as though the rains had refreshed them. Colourful against the flat grey sky.

I walked in the rain. I know this neighbourhood. I know the secret laneways. I see snails making their slow way across footpaths that are like freeways for them. I hear cockatoos that sound more like pteradactyls. Sometimes I wave at someone I know, or I over compensate for a co-walker who tries to ignore me.

I know the house where a mother found her son after he'd overdosed on heroin. Her garden is like no-one else's. An leafy, green and flower-laden oasis. A salute to her son.

And another home, palatial, where a two year old once tumbled from a second storey balcony.

These are true stories. Testament that everyone has their own private struggles.

Sometimes I manage to walk and just tune out altogether. It isn't often, but when I do, it repays in dividends.

Last night I listened to this. One of my favourites.

See those stripey socks? They make me walk faster.

Buying Time

This afternoon we three went to the little shops. We enjoyed an icy pop together with Tiny wiping most of hers on my dress. Er thanks.

Then we went looking for a stranger's cat to pat. We always look in the streets for cats. Alas today was cat-less and we went home wanting. We meandered our way home through the back streets. The Doctor pointing out houses that we could buy (they weren't even actually for sale, and besides this, we're not in the buying market - boo hiss!).

My smalls tend to go a little berko when I'm prepping for dinner. Well particularly the smallest one. Tiny wants to be carried around which is not conducive to chopping and locking (sorry! I had to work in that lame pop and lock reference).

So I set up 'washing up'. When better to start your smalls on the domestic chores than rightthisveryminute?! They washed up their tea sets. I cooked dinner. They didn't want to come in for dinner they were having so much fun. If only real life washing up was so good.

The Rain Boats

With the rain has come water. Lots of it. Surprising, isn't it?

We snuck out of the house this afternoon after being struck down with an acute case of cabin fever-itis. The Doctor scootered. Matt and I walked. Tiny ate popcorn in her pram. It continued to sprinkle on our heads. In fact, it sprinkled all over us. It was steamy, but the sprinkling rain relieved that for a short time. We walked down to the park where the Doctor did a few circuits on his scooter.

Then we began our walk home, via a small creek not far from home, which, due to the water, which was due to the rain, was flowing. Perfect conditions for leaf boat racing.

The Doctor and I indulged ourselves. Matt got a bit sniffy that I chose a dodgy leaf for him (which wound up winning), and the Doctor and I continued with our leaf racing. There's a certain season for leaf racing. We've collected some more vessels for more leaf races later in the week. It's pretty darn fun reconnecting with your childhood via your own child.

Old School Skating

We went on a leisurely Sunday afternoon walk. We like to do that. I threw a chicken in the oven (that I had stuffed after gagging, I hate touching raw chicken, and stuffing them for that matter - enter the squeams!) and then we walked. The Doctor had a minor meltdown as he couldn't find his helmet, and in our house no helmet equals no racers. So he had to walk.

This may have been fortuitous because just down the road was a pile of rubbish. And you know what that means in our language. Good times. The Doctor and I rummaged 'til our hearts were content. Matt, of course, stood back. Because he's too cool to be seen going through other people's junk. Me? No way Jose. I'm in there. I'll show you tomorrow what I found - not today because today I am too lazy to take a photo. But the Doctor triumphed over his helmet downfall. He scored this old school skateboard (here he is rad dawging), check out the handle that helps him steer the deck, and gain a little confidence, le old school way.

The thing I particularly loved about our work, besides the rubbish of course, was a couple of ginger cats coming out to say hi to the smalls. We've met one of these cats on a previous walk before. But yesterday, not only did ol' Ginger run out, his mate did too. The smalls were in cattie heaven.

You Don't Know Unless You Ask

Remember when I was writing about good intentions, and the beautiful roses we walk past sometimes? Well today on our walk (this is a constant lately, yes?) Tiny and I happened upon the lady in the garden. So we started chatting. It's nice to chat to elderly people. I think so anyway. They hold such wisdom, experience and knowledge - that seems to come with age. Just last week I got chatting to a 92 year old war veteran who was blinded in Burma - told you I get chatting.

Back to the garden. She told me that she's not much of a rose gardener, but she keeps them going in her father's memory. He was an avid rose grower, and they had over 50 rose bushes one time. Now they're getting old, they're getting black spot, and she's afraid she doesn't really know how to grow them. But to me they still look beautiful, and my goodness, you've never smelt roses this rosey. She pointed out roses that were planted in 1921 and 1922.. I love learning little snippets of history, no matter how small, it paints a picture of people.

I'm enjoying getting out into the sunshine. When it's here. For the most part, I am bunkered down inside. I've been sewing a little, baking a little, sleeping very little, and watching Tiny do the zombie baby walk. It might be Winter but it's not for long.

The Paps Are Following: Less Talking, More Walking

Yesterday, before the sun left the sky, before my breath froze in the air, before my blood froze because oh-yeah-it's-really-bloody-cold, the Doctor, Tiny and I went for our afternoon walk. I've written before about my own personal cheer squad. It being - the Doctor. Well yesterday, he came out in force and told me that I looked like a rockstar. Kudos to you small man. Then he grabbed a few *secret* things and we walked out the door.

I urge you to enlist your own ego-leader, after the Doctor gave me my pep talk I could barely get out the front door because my head was so inflated. I just awaited the flashbulbs, alas they never came, so we just went walking. BUT - not before the Doctor quickly transformed himself with his *secret* sunnies and *secret* 'train-driver' hat and told me he was now a rockstar too.

Together we were going to rock the world.

Instead we went to the nursery, bought some seeds. And then it happened. The Doctor scammed me.

Feigning fatigue (we'd walked a grand total of 100 metres) he told me he was feeling very hot.

Impossible I say - yesterday was close to blizzard temperatures (ok not really, but it might as well have been). If I had left the Doctor outside too long yesterday he would have turned into a snowman. The Doctor then informed me that if we were to continue walking, he really would need an ice cream to cool himself down.

I say just stick your tongue out and you'll grow your own icicles, but that didn't cut it. So the Doctor scammed me. Tiny had a pink fit and wanted a bite. Lucky for Tiny, our little Doctor is a good sharer and loves sharing with Tiny. She scored too.

On our walk the Doctor crunched in the carpet of Autumn leaves. We looked and admired our long Wintery shadows. Tiny called the neighbourhood dogs. We played with the 'helicopter' seed pods for a while (I was still walking!). We admired two small boys taking out the garbage. Well, we lauded them at least. For me, walking is a nice way to end the day, talk about what we're going to do the next day. A sort of reconnection. And then whizz home and get dinner on the hob.

No paps, but some pretty snaps.

Autumnal Afternoon Walks

The smalls and I have been enjoying afternoon walks. We make our way, late afternoon, down to the park, in time for the smalls to play for a while, the Doctor scoots around the path on his scooter, Tiny goes crawling off into the crisp leaves. It's clear from her expression that she's having a hoot.

Tiny loves the swing, and it's usually at this time that Matt rolls in fresh off the train.

We've been enjoying the fresh Autumn air on our faces, watching the trees shift from greens into golds, reds, leaves crunchy underfoot. Sometimes the smell of someone's fire, the Doctor asks me why they have a fire. Conversations transpire, conversations evolve. The Doctor shows us his break dancing, begs to go and play leaf races. Alas, there's been no rain lately, so leaf racing is off the walking menu. But we make our way through the second park and watch the dogs prance around on their evenings walks. We greet strangers. And those who divert their eyes - as though we're imaginary - I make sure I say an extra jovial hello. What am I, cellophane??

I don't think I've ever enjoyed Autumn as much as I do now that I have children. It's like rediscovering each of the seasons all over again.

Welcome Autumn:: Hello Magical March

So it's the first day of Autumn here. Thank goodness.

I got to enjoy some time outdoors with my smalls. Just me and them. It was calm. Beautiful. They'd both had huuuuge sleeps, their batteries re-charged. We played hide and seek. The babes giggled. We dug in the sand pit. Tiny sampled some. Delicious! Extra fibre! The Doctor and I dug roads and rescued trucks. I looked skywards - oh how I love to look skywards, through tree branches. It almost makes me giddy, those green leaves, that sky. Oh hello Autumn, we welcome you with open arms. We're waiting for the coloured goodness you're about to show.

Later the four of us went for a walk. A nice long walk. The Doctor rode his trike. We saw the black and white bunny again, but she hid because of the dog. Next time we hope to stroke her softness.

Welcome March, and welcome Autumn.

This is the start of my 'Magical March'. Each day I'm going to find something magical to blog about. Play along if you're feelin' it. Tell me too. (I might even go so far as to make a Magical March sidebar - I know, I know, amazing. But it is Magical March after all.)

Bird-Watching & Old Knockers: What Does It Sound Like In German?

heart shaped petals that reminded me of this lady

My Dad kindly informed me yesterday that he thought pottymouthmama was a bit boring of late. He's not so into fabrics.

In the interests of any men that might be reading, I'm going to have to step it up a bit. I have to think of something decidely un-boring. So that rules out 90% of my life (hey I'm not criticising my life, I love being home with the babies).

Given that there's still one sleep 'til garbage night there's not much to post on my bin.

So gents, perhaps you'd like to know what makes us tick over here at pottymouthmama HQ? Or perhaps not...? But maybe you've been wondering what sound a German train makes? A German donkey perhaps?

Click through here and find out.

In other ground-breaking news, The Doctor, my baby girl (who will from now on be referred to as Tiny) and I have been going on our walks. In fact, the Doctor has also formed this walking habit too, and is a great advocate for getting our walking shoes on and checking out the neighbourhood. He's a hardcore walker. Though we have one small problem. Every walk, without fail he wants a drink and we always forget his bottle. I know an easy fix. Remember the bottle. Genius! MENSA will probably be calling me soon.

I went to scout out the bin early. It's already full. It took much self-control to not launch myself into their yard and go rummaging early. Oh yes, it certainly did. Already I have it pegged to holding old tea towels and other kitchen accoutrement this week. Well, one can only hope. And I'm hoping it's not dustballs. That's for shizzle.

And just like clockwork - the teenage boy on the small motorbike rode out. Quel bizarre! Here's photographic evidence.

The Doctor loves to snap some pics of our walk. Today 'rad dogs' skating.

Anyway our walk today - we bird-watched - the feathered variety (sorry gents) with an old pair of 'knockers' that were gleaned from the bin in the initial motherload. The red ones, so I am told by the Doctor, 'are crummy'.

And news to hand - sewing classes start next week - my sewing machine got serviced yesterday (finally! woohoo!) - so ladies, get your engines revving. But what to make? What's something super dooper simple, what's a fail-safe easy pattern for a sewing novice such as myself? I'm thinking I might head off to Tessuti and glean some ideas from them. Ideas?

Better Dad?

One More Sleep

'Til I discover whether the bin is full of dust or diamonds..

Dust or diamonds people.. That's what it's down to.

I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. I'm the one on the corner wearing some leaves in my hair and some camoflage, commando rolling around the neighbourhood.

PS - Hi Mum! Happy Birthday!

Day 21: A Hot Date With A Garbage Bin

So Day 21 arrived fast on my doorstep. Inadvertently it coincided with our garbage day. And you know what that means? Pop the champagne people. It means combining two great things - a cause for celebration! You know what I am going to say already, don't you? You've probably already liaised with the police to throw me in the clink, after all I am a hardened criminal looking through other people's garbage. They might as well throw away the keys, I'm not ever going to stop. Not. Ever.

I even planned my walk so that the home stretch would wind up outside my favourite garbage bin. I never thought I'd say I have a favourite garbage bin, but folks, anything's possible these days!

I also neglected to mention that I did go over to this house during daylight hours to introduce myself (along with my two trusty sidekicks - my babies), but no one answered. This further convinced me that the house is a deceased estate and they just want to get rid of everything. So I fashioned a little note and left it in their mailbox, stating that I was totally available to help with their 'garbage' (please note use of inverted commas there). No call! Not a peep!

I started concocting all sorts of ideas in my head. Maybe these people had seen me rifling through their rubbish, and had called the police so that while I have my head in their wheelie bin, they could come and handcuff me. Thank goodness I have an overactive imagination and no one thinks of me, or else I could be writing from the penitentiary. Phew!

Opening that garbage bin lid is like opening a treasure chest. I just never know what I am going to find. A garbage bin of enema kits or a bin full of bounty? What's it to be?

For all you enema kit fans, no cigar. But what I did find this week were old tins. Charming. One had old Christmas ribbons and drawing pins, not very exciting, so much so, I didn't bother photographing the contents. But the tins, well oh lala!

Has my habit stuck? Gosh I think so. I'm already planning my walk for today, as well as my weekend walks. Mission accomplished! Thanks to Mikes for hooking me up with the good habits!

Day 9, 10, 11:: Dodging the Raindrops - and Still Walking

This weekend might have seen you wonder if I'm still walking.. Probably not, but I can always dream - can't I? Well, you'll be pleased to know, I am. Yes indeedy.

Day 9:: Friday afternoon I got the junior burgers ready for a walk to meet their Daddy at the train station. We were running late so we had to go hammer and tongs to beat him (and meet him) before he started walking towards us, and we lost the opportunity to walk, walk, walk. My little guy pretty well flew the whole way with me holding his hand and me walking left-right-left-right. I conned Matt into a longer walk than he was anticipating - but really, there's no harm, it's good for the heart, good for a chat. And it was good for my motivation to have some amigos!

I think we probably walked for over an hour. I scouted out a spot that would be good to scatter my seeds for our secret walking project. No success yet, but I'm sussing it out. It was cold and dark by the time we walked through our little front door.. Tired but happy. Now that's a good place to be!

Day 10:: I conned my small family to walk with me again. Hee hee. This time my little man brought his bike. Little did we know we'd wind up carrying it, balancing it on the pram, or using it as a barbell for the duration of the walk. We picked up my seeds to scatter, I chose some beautiful bright flowers that I'll hope will blossom in the warmer months. I chose flowers that reminded me of my childhood. I almost went for wildflowers - and I probably should have, but I'm not a huge fan. My bad? I took them to see a new 'dream house' that I had discovered on previous walks. It's nice to dream. This place is a little weatherboard cottage, complete with roses, lavender, and all sorts of tall and out of control cottage type plants. It has a small sunroom, that's where we'd read the papers, eat breakfast on the weekends. Maybe even sneak in a sly afternoon snooze...

Day 11:: I went for a hat-trick and took everyone walking again. Having companions was like an indulgence. Small Fry told us he had 'wobbly legs' and kept tripping over. We bought some Gummi Bears at the local IGA - though I told Small Fry they were sustenance. He kept asking for more sustenance, and thus set the theme for our walk. I searched for another of my dream houses, but can't remember where it is. I'll have to keep walking this week and re-discover it.

So I'm over half way. The habit is already starting to kick in. By the end of the day, when night is closing in, and if I haven't been for my walk, I almost start to panic, so I lycra myself up, tie my shoelaces and grab the iPod.. A walk in a flash - it's an easy habit to get into, it will be a hard habit to kick. I've already got dreams for my next step in my fitness regime. Nothing crazy. But there's nothing like a bit of boxing to mix things up, is there?

This week Mr Fothergill and I are going walking together. Watch us blossom.

PS - Images are from here. Don't go thinking I took these old school shots!

Day 7-8:: Jiggle the Jiggly Bits

you'll never guess where i got this from...

So I'm typing this super small - as though I'm whispering - in the hope that no one notices. I missed my seventh day of walking. Bad, aren't I? I did walk to the shops. But that's just incidental, and I don't think it counts.

Punish me. Although, I think I already did. Day 8 saw me go double time, or rather, it saw me include more hills, and you know what I did... Well no, you didn't unless you're stalking me (and if you are, you must be pretty darn bored because I haven't left the house except to go to the post office in two days - zzzz). I jogged. I got the jiggly bits jiggling. Can you believe how outrageous I am? I am crazy, keeeerazy.

I'm lucky where I live because there are lots of beautiful houses. Lush trees. Loot to go through. Oh sorry, did I bring up my unbelievable luck again? Sorry.

Anyway, back to my walk/jog - jiggle my jiggly bits thing. I listened to my music (last night - Nick Cave and then Art of Fighting) got lost in the lyrics, and found myself mimicking a passer-by by getting my socks off and actually running. Pretending that I, me - Potty Mouth Mama - was a jogger. I may have tricked some cars whizzing by, but deep inside, I know I'm not a real jogger. I struggle with it. But I'll try. I'll get them jiggling. I'll think of Beyonce while I'm doing it.

When I got home I caught glimpse of my derriere in the mirror. I have a fear of getting one of those flat butts that women seem to acquire after having kids. But fear not, I've not got a flat butt. I've got ample - in fact, it's more like a bubble butt. I can dig it. Anyway, I digress - yet again..

Walk/jog was good. 35 minutes. Tonight. I'm down for Day 9. I'll have my sneakers on, ready to roll with my homies (well, actually, just me).

Anyway, enough exercise chit-chat. So a few people have asked just why did I go diving headfirst into that pile of garbage.. Ok, ok no one has asked me why, but you know what, even though no one asked, I'll tell you anyway. If you're not interested, just stop reading. Or perhaps you wanted to ask but were too shy? Most probably you just didn't give two hoots. Well, regardless, I'm the kind of gal that will give you tips of the thrifting/dump diving kind. No sewing tips here. No. Just how to climb into a garbage dump and come back clutching something exciting*.

Because I saw the potential for there being something good in there. No matter how small. Look for possibilities and ye shall find. Or seek and ye shall find. Yes, that's it. Live in hope. Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day, teach him how to dump dive and he'll dive for ever.

*Fact: Exciting is different for everyone. For some, an old jigsaw could set some people's hearts pounding (better than a run? Dump diving could be - shock - horror - exercise?** For some, not so much.

** No. Dump diving is not exercise.