Happy New Years, jellybeans. I'll see you on January 2nd.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Retro RRSAHM- Vloggus Interruptus
The last of the Retro RRSAHM series for now. This is my favorite ever video blog. It's called Vloggus Interruptus, and you'll soon see why.
Happy New Years, jellybeans. I'll see you on January 2nd.
Happy New Years, jellybeans. I'll see you on January 2nd.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Retro RRSAHM- Lori Misplaces Something Very Important
'Hem... *ahem*, *ahem*, *ahem*. A fractured fairytale. Definitely not for children.
Once upon a time, there was a young wench named Lori.
One Saturday morning, Lori and her devoted, loving betrothed, the Man, awoke at the peaceful hour of 8am, to find their children still sleeping.
In the land of the Purple House, this was indeed a unique and exciting occurrence.
"I doth think we should partake in a bit of nookie" intones the Man.
Lori retires to the powder room to grapple with her troublesome contraceptive, the Holy and Glorious Diaphragm. This Diaphragm has been the source of many a happy adventure. It lives in small, white plastic case in the bathroom drawer.
Whatever-oust. Nookie was had, and all was well in the land of the Purple House.
That is, until approximately two hours later, when the land of the Purple House was hit by the dreaded Gastro Monster. Lori and the Man realized, too late, that it was under the Gastro Monster's spell the children had slept so peacefully.
Three days and three nights passed. The children, Lori and the Man had recovered well and continued about their daily business raising cows and harvesting cropson Farmville. On the nigh of the third day, The Man turned to Lori and said
"Does thou fancy a bit of nookie?"
"Indeed, my Lord,with your pork sword", replies Lori.
And she skips up to turret stairs to grapple with her friend the Diaphragm.
Lori creeps down the hall, past one, two sleeping children. Tiptoes into the bathroom, and by the light of the lamp in the hallway, cracks open the drawer....
.... but when she got there, the diaphragm case, it was bare!!
Oh fuck.
Lori sent frantic message via carrier pigeon to her fairy godmother, the health line nurse, who attempted not to giggle whilst she reassured our heroine all was well, and to see the local surgeon and drink a brew of newt's eyes and mugwort if signs of tepid infection became apparent.
Lori, fraught, came close to throwing the Holy and Glorious Diaphragm in the pig slop receptacle. Then, she remembered the tragic days of yonder Pill, when she wanted to stab her husband and run over random strangers with her car. And she decided to hang onto her hallowed contraceptive.
But she never forgot to remove her diaphragm ever, ever again.
*This asterisk doesn't refer to anything in particular, this whole post needs a freaking asterisk. In my defense, diaphragms are supposed to be left in for six hours after... nookie.... and I normally just leave the plastic case out so I don't forgot about it and an incident like this does not occur. But somewhere in my vomit and fever, I must have put the case away. Personally, I think it's just a miracle I didn't turn the Man's second request for nookie down the way I usually do. Or things could have gotten really.... uncomfortable.
***
Once upon a time, there was a young wench named Lori.
One Saturday morning, Lori and her devoted, loving betrothed, the Man, awoke at the peaceful hour of 8am, to find their children still sleeping.
In the land of the Purple House, this was indeed a unique and exciting occurrence.
"I doth think we should partake in a bit of nookie" intones the Man.
Lori retires to the powder room to grapple with her troublesome contraceptive, the Holy and Glorious Diaphragm. This Diaphragm has been the source of many a happy adventure. It lives in small, white plastic case in the bathroom drawer.
Whatever-oust. Nookie was had, and all was well in the land of the Purple House.
That is, until approximately two hours later, when the land of the Purple House was hit by the dreaded Gastro Monster. Lori and the Man realized, too late, that it was under the Gastro Monster's spell the children had slept so peacefully.
Three days and three nights passed. The children, Lori and the Man had recovered well and continued about their daily business raising cows and harvesting crops
"Does thou fancy a bit of nookie?"
"Indeed, my Lord,
And she skips up to turret stairs to grapple with her friend the Diaphragm.
Lori creeps down the hall, past one, two sleeping children. Tiptoes into the bathroom, and by the light of the lamp in the hallway, cracks open the drawer....
.... but when she got there, the diaphragm case, it was bare!!
Oh fuck.
Lori sent frantic message via carrier pigeon to her fairy godmother, the health line nurse, who attempted not to giggle whilst she reassured our heroine all was well, and to see the local surgeon and drink a brew of newt's eyes and mugwort if signs of tepid infection became apparent.
Lori, fraught, came close to throwing the Holy and Glorious Diaphragm in the pig slop receptacle. Then, she remembered the tragic days of yonder Pill, when she wanted to stab her husband and run over random strangers with her car. And she decided to hang onto her hallowed contraceptive.
But she never forgot to remove her diaphragm ever, ever again.
*This asterisk doesn't refer to anything in particular, this whole post needs a freaking asterisk. In my defense, diaphragms are supposed to be left in for six hours after... nookie.... and I normally just leave the plastic case out so I don't forgot about it and an incident like this does not occur. But somewhere in my vomit and fever, I must have put the case away. Personally, I think it's just a miracle I didn't turn the Man's second request for nookie down the way I usually do. Or things could have gotten really.... uncomfortable.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Retro RRSAHM- Who Reads This Stuff, Anyway?
Many moons ago, I guest posted at The Mother Media. I love this post- loved it then, loved it now. It goes a long way toward explaining this social media addiction of mine. I believe my shrink would call that 'self serving justification'. Undeniably true... but this post holds a lot of truth in it, too.
When I reveal to people in my Real Life that I write a blog, there are two very common questions I’m asked. The first is “What’s a blog?”. After I finish explaining that and assure them that I am not, in fact, a geek, I usually get asked,
“Who reads this stuff, anyway?”
And the answer to that question is slightly more complex.
In short, the demographic of readers for most ‘mummy blogs’ is other mums, other dads, other women and men; at home or at work; with kids or without. The demographic for my blog is, specifically, other women, other mums, at home, with kids.
Most ‘mummy bloggers’ will confess that, at one point or another, their husband has told them to “Get off that damn computer!”. Things have changed. Where my mum, at home, 20 years ago, would have watched a midday movie and chatted on the phone to a friend, trailing 20 feet of phone cable behind her so she could house-work while she chatted; in the year 2010 mums log onto FaceBook, Twitter, forums and blogs while our children are sleeping or playing outside. Loneliness is less of a problem for stay at homes mums in this technological age. We have the blessed advantage of being able to go online and log on to a social life when we can’t leave the house.
It’s an accepted sociological fact that women are communal creatures. Surely, you’ve wondered why women go to the bathroom in pairs…? That’s just how our brains are wired. We like to chat, to gossip, to form friendships, networks and social circles. While we all know this can lead to catty in-fighting by immature people, for the most part, the communal, sharing women of nature brings us strength and solidarity. It’s in the nature of women to share and swap stories, ideas and experiences.
And all of this becomes even more important once we have kids.
A hundred years ago, human beings in the western world were intensely tribal creatures, much more than what we are now. The 21st century has seen most women go back to work, and families move vast distances from one another. While again, this has it advantages (especially the families-at-vast-distances bit), it also means that women are often lacking the family network that once existed. There are no grandmothers at home to help pick up the slack of a mum with a newborn. There isn’t a neighbor next door with small children, who you can laugh with, who’ll reassure you the worst will soon pass.
In this day and age, mums get all that online.
We turn to FaceBook and Twitter to share casual conversations and day to day events with those in the same situation as us. We log on to parenting forums for advice on breastfeeding, discipline and sleeping problems.
We use our blogs to vent our frustrations, to celebrate our triumphs, to engage our adult selves in a place more creative than our lounge rooms. We read the blogs of others to feel enlightened, to gain perspective, to learn, to share and to grow.
These blogs, these online social networks that we form, they serve as our community of like-minded women, as our social circle of writers, mentors and other mothers. The traditional model of women in society has changed, and we are grasping for something to steady ourselves.
The Internet becomes our community. It’s real, it’s powerful. And the bonds we form here can be as strong as those formed In Real Life.
Who reads this stuff, anyway? Other women, other men, other mother, other dads. Other bored, frazzled parents, who are reaching out for something more.
When I reveal to people in my Real Life that I write a blog, there are two very common questions I’m asked. The first is “What’s a blog?”. After I finish explaining that and assure them that I am not, in fact, a geek, I usually get asked,
“Who reads this stuff, anyway?”
And the answer to that question is slightly more complex.
In short, the demographic of readers for most ‘mummy blogs’ is other mums, other dads, other women and men; at home or at work; with kids or without. The demographic for my blog is, specifically, other women, other mums, at home, with kids.
Most ‘mummy bloggers’ will confess that, at one point or another, their husband has told them to “Get off that damn computer!”. Things have changed. Where my mum, at home, 20 years ago, would have watched a midday movie and chatted on the phone to a friend, trailing 20 feet of phone cable behind her so she could house-work while she chatted; in the year 2010 mums log onto FaceBook, Twitter, forums and blogs while our children are sleeping or playing outside. Loneliness is less of a problem for stay at homes mums in this technological age. We have the blessed advantage of being able to go online and log on to a social life when we can’t leave the house.
It’s an accepted sociological fact that women are communal creatures. Surely, you’ve wondered why women go to the bathroom in pairs…? That’s just how our brains are wired. We like to chat, to gossip, to form friendships, networks and social circles. While we all know this can lead to catty in-fighting by immature people, for the most part, the communal, sharing women of nature brings us strength and solidarity. It’s in the nature of women to share and swap stories, ideas and experiences.
And all of this becomes even more important once we have kids.
A hundred years ago, human beings in the western world were intensely tribal creatures, much more than what we are now. The 21st century has seen most women go back to work, and families move vast distances from one another. While again, this has it advantages (especially the families-at-vast-distances bit), it also means that women are often lacking the family network that once existed. There are no grandmothers at home to help pick up the slack of a mum with a newborn. There isn’t a neighbor next door with small children, who you can laugh with, who’ll reassure you the worst will soon pass.
In this day and age, mums get all that online.
We turn to FaceBook and Twitter to share casual conversations and day to day events with those in the same situation as us. We log on to parenting forums for advice on breastfeeding, discipline and sleeping problems.
We use our blogs to vent our frustrations, to celebrate our triumphs, to engage our adult selves in a place more creative than our lounge rooms. We read the blogs of others to feel enlightened, to gain perspective, to learn, to share and to grow.
These blogs, these online social networks that we form, they serve as our community of like-minded women, as our social circle of writers, mentors and other mothers. The traditional model of women in society has changed, and we are grasping for something to steady ourselves.
The Internet becomes our community. It’s real, it’s powerful. And the bonds we form here can be as strong as those formed In Real Life.
Who reads this stuff, anyway? Other women, other men, other mother, other dads. Other bored, frazzled parents, who are reaching out for something more.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Retro RRSAHM- The Something.
The retro theme continues here on RRSAHM... reblogging, this week only, the best of the Before.
I hadn't written a short story for years before I started my blog... and it's been months since I've even written one to be published here. This may not be the best of the bunch, but it's my favorite.
The Something
At the age of six, Hannah knew a good deal about a lot of things. One of the things she knew for sure was that sometimes, adults lied. She knew her father lied when he said he was going to church at night, because her mum got all cranky. She knew her mother lied about Santa Claus, because Santa used the same wrapping paper that mum bought at the grocery store just the week before Christmas.
So, sometimes, adults lied. But this time, the adults really weren't lieing, and that was what worried Hannah the most.
She had tried to tell them, many times, about the Something that was hiding in the field. When they refused to listen, refused to believe, and eventually began to get angry and told her to Leave Them Alone, she enlisted the help of her sister Kate, two years older than Hannah and therefore infinitely more believable. But the adults weren't lieing. They really had no idea.
Kate knew about the Something in the field. She had seen it too. Just a flash of it, every now and then. A sparkly something, pushing out from the top of the long grass. It bought with it the smell of chocolate and sugar cooking, floating on the wind to tantalize small noses and unsettle young desires. The Something in the field sang to them, calling them, daring them to enter and see what lay beyond.
The Something felt bad, and the two young girls had used all their willpower to resist it, to ignore it's song. They discussed it between themselves, at night, deep under the covers, when the lights went out, and decided the only course of action was to ignore the Something in the field, and stay as far away as they could.
But that wasn't always possible.
One sunny autumn day, Hannah and Kate were sent out to play, in the yard that backed onto the field. Kate wasn't quite sure how it happened. One moment Hannah was there, right next to her... the next she was drifting toward the long grass, where the peak of the sparkly Something could just be seen. Kate called out her sister's name, over and over, but Hannah didn't seem to hear...
The whole town looked for Hannah. For a week, they scoured every inch of every paddock, evry trail, every stream.
It took Kate two full days to tell them that Hannah had disappeared into the field. No one listened, no one believed. Why would they? The field had been searched, there was no sign of Hannah there.
Kate never mentioned the Something.
Not then, and certainly not later. Not to her husband, and never a word to her little girl. It never occurred to Kate, after so many years, to whisper a warning to her daughter, visiting the house of her grandparents for the very first time, a place Kate herself had moved far, far away from just as soon as she was able.
Kate's daughter was five, and a headstrong, curious child.
The Something found she was not nearly as difficult to lure into the field as her Aunt Hannah had been.
I hadn't written a short story for years before I started my blog... and it's been months since I've even written one to be published here. This may not be the best of the bunch, but it's my favorite.
***
The Something
At the age of six, Hannah knew a good deal about a lot of things. One of the things she knew for sure was that sometimes, adults lied. She knew her father lied when he said he was going to church at night, because her mum got all cranky. She knew her mother lied about Santa Claus, because Santa used the same wrapping paper that mum bought at the grocery store just the week before Christmas.
So, sometimes, adults lied. But this time, the adults really weren't lieing, and that was what worried Hannah the most.
She had tried to tell them, many times, about the Something that was hiding in the field. When they refused to listen, refused to believe, and eventually began to get angry and told her to Leave Them Alone, she enlisted the help of her sister Kate, two years older than Hannah and therefore infinitely more believable. But the adults weren't lieing. They really had no idea.
Kate knew about the Something in the field. She had seen it too. Just a flash of it, every now and then. A sparkly something, pushing out from the top of the long grass. It bought with it the smell of chocolate and sugar cooking, floating on the wind to tantalize small noses and unsettle young desires. The Something in the field sang to them, calling them, daring them to enter and see what lay beyond.
The Something felt bad, and the two young girls had used all their willpower to resist it, to ignore it's song. They discussed it between themselves, at night, deep under the covers, when the lights went out, and decided the only course of action was to ignore the Something in the field, and stay as far away as they could.
But that wasn't always possible.
One sunny autumn day, Hannah and Kate were sent out to play, in the yard that backed onto the field. Kate wasn't quite sure how it happened. One moment Hannah was there, right next to her... the next she was drifting toward the long grass, where the peak of the sparkly Something could just be seen. Kate called out her sister's name, over and over, but Hannah didn't seem to hear...
The whole town looked for Hannah. For a week, they scoured every inch of every paddock, evry trail, every stream.
It took Kate two full days to tell them that Hannah had disappeared into the field. No one listened, no one believed. Why would they? The field had been searched, there was no sign of Hannah there.
Kate never mentioned the Something.
Not then, and certainly not later. Not to her husband, and never a word to her little girl. It never occurred to Kate, after so many years, to whisper a warning to her daughter, visiting the house of her grandparents for the very first time, a place Kate herself had moved far, far away from just as soon as she was able.
Kate's daughter was five, and a headstrong, curious child.
The Something found she was not nearly as difficult to lure into the field as her Aunt Hannah had been.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Retro RRSAHM- Lori Meets Abby Cabaddy
Welcome to Retro RRSAHM Week- otherwise known as "Lori is trying to conserve her emotional energy for when she really needs it" week'. This one was originally published in July 2011. And, yes, I really did meet Abby Cadabby.
Pumpkins and fairy wings,
Let me begin by saying- Sunny days, everything's A-OK... because I had the most amazing time of my life today.
This morning I had the pleasure of meeting Sesame Street's newest female character-
For those of you not up to fur on your Sesame St gossip (where have you been?!) Abby Cadabby is a pink, pretty fairy-in-training who lives with her Mommy on Sesame Street, and gets into all sorts of misadventures with her fairy wings and fairy wand.
And Abby is way, way cool.
And hanging out with her today was way, way fun.
Did you know Sesame Street recently turned 40 years old? And, so Abby tells me, they had a big birthday party. With a cake that looked just like Sesame Street.
But what didn't they have? Why, fairy bread, of course.
So I just had to take Abby some Australian party food- fairy bread with pink sprinkles.
I think it's fair to say she was very, very excited. I had to remind her that fairy bread is a 'sometimes food', so maybe she should save it for after her nap?
That went down well. After all, Abby knows all about 'sometimes food'. First Lady Michelle Obama came to Sesame Street recently and taught everyone all about healthy eating. She helped them plant a vegie garden. Just in case you're wondering, Abby's favorite vegetable is pumpkin, followed by popcorn (I'm not entirely sure that's a vegetable, Abby!).
Ahh, yes, the pumpkins. It is an unfortunate consequence of Abby's very well-meant magic that sometimes things end up as.. well... pumpkins. And once she turned one Elmo into seven Elmo's. And then there was that unfortunate incident with Maria from Sesame Street and the chicken. But she promised me that had nothing to do with her.
So, some bits and pieces we learnt today, from Miss Abby Cadabby....
Words are very, very important. And they can cause big things to happen. Not just with fairies, but with people too. They can hurt people's hearts and we should be careful with them.
You don't need a wand to be magic. Being kind to people can have the same effect.
My wedding ring is totally not fake. She bit it, just to make sure (Yes, really. I seem to be saying that a lot in this post).
Friends are important. Abby's favorite gal pals are Rosetta and Zoe. They make pizzas and feed them to Oscar the Grouch because they're gross.
Abby's mommy (who is light peach color, by the way, except when she goes out in the sun, and then she's a burnt peach. Boom tish, Abby.) didn't come to Australia with her this time. But she did confiscate her wand and put a special fairy petrification spell on her wings, so Abby didn't accidentally flutter off in excitement. Which was a very good idea, because Abby can be a tad excitable.
Abby's picked up some Aussie vocab while she's been here too. In fact, there is....
The Good- DragaRoo and a PlatyFairy. Magical Australian creatures that only fairies can see.
The Bad- Tim Tams with hot chocolate. Oh, and fairy bread. OK, so they're not bad, but definitely sometimes foods!
The Ugly- Whinging. Oh yeah, someone taught Abby the word for whinging. Apparently, Elmo does a lot of it. Who knew?
So, as I said, hanging out with Abby was much awesomeness. We even got groovy to the tune of Micheal Jackson's Man in The Mirror.
Aren't I a lucky girl? The Purple House loves Sesame Street, and Mummy has a new favorite.
Abby Cadabby. She's just so... magic!
***
Pumpkins and fairy wings,
Let me begin by saying- Sunny days, everything's A-OK... because I had the most amazing time of my life today.
This morning I had the pleasure of meeting Sesame Street's newest female character-
Abby Cadabby!!
Yes, really. Cool, huh?For those of you not up to fur on your Sesame St gossip (where have you been?!) Abby Cadabby is a pink, pretty fairy-in-training who lives with her Mommy on Sesame Street, and gets into all sorts of misadventures with her fairy wings and fairy wand.
And Abby is way, way cool.
And hanging out with her today was way, way fun.
Did you know Sesame Street recently turned 40 years old? And, so Abby tells me, they had a big birthday party. With a cake that looked just like Sesame Street.
Introducing Abby to fairy bread...
So I just had to take Abby some Australian party food- fairy bread with pink sprinkles.
I think it's fair to say she was very, very excited. I had to remind her that fairy bread is a 'sometimes food', so maybe she should save it for after her nap?
That went down well. After all, Abby knows all about 'sometimes food'. First Lady Michelle Obama came to Sesame Street recently and taught everyone all about healthy eating. She helped them plant a vegie garden. Just in case you're wondering, Abby's favorite vegetable is pumpkin, followed by popcorn (I'm not entirely sure that's a vegetable, Abby!).
Ahh, yes, the pumpkins. It is an unfortunate consequence of Abby's very well-meant magic that sometimes things end up as.. well... pumpkins. And once she turned one Elmo into seven Elmo's. And then there was that unfortunate incident with Maria from Sesame Street and the chicken. But she promised me that had nothing to do with her.
Everyone say Twisties!!
Words are very, very important. And they can cause big things to happen. Not just with fairies, but with people too. They can hurt people's hearts and we should be careful with them.
You don't need a wand to be magic. Being kind to people can have the same effect.
My wedding ring is totally not fake. She bit it, just to make sure (Yes, really. I seem to be saying that a lot in this post).
Friends are important. Abby's favorite gal pals are Rosetta and Zoe. They make pizzas and feed them to Oscar the Grouch because they're gross.
Abby's mommy (who is light peach color, by the way, except when she goes out in the sun, and then she's a burnt peach. Boom tish, Abby.) didn't come to Australia with her this time. But she did confiscate her wand and put a special fairy petrification spell on her wings, so Abby didn't accidentally flutter off in excitement. Which was a very good idea, because Abby can be a tad excitable.
Getting groovy with the Abster.
The Good- DragaRoo and a PlatyFairy. Magical Australian creatures that only fairies can see.
The Bad- Tim Tams with hot chocolate. Oh, and fairy bread. OK, so they're not bad, but definitely sometimes foods!
The Ugly- Whinging. Oh yeah, someone taught Abby the word for whinging. Apparently, Elmo does a lot of it. Who knew?
So, as I said, hanging out with Abby was much awesomeness. We even got groovy to the tune of Micheal Jackson's Man in The Mirror.
And I got a kiss!!
Abby Cadabby. She's just so... magic!
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