I Have A Bad Case of Hair Envy

After yesterday's post I thought it best I steer clear of controversy while I catch my breath. In fact, I've gone completely vapid. Today I've written about another topic very dear to my heart - my hair. Yep, you read right. You see I've had many, many, many haircuts over the years.

Just over one year ago I had thick, long hair.

And then it happened. I got bored. All I ever did was get up and pop it into a pony tail. I felt "Mumsy". So, I decided to get a cut and hair colour.

Then I a ditched the ombré look and got a big fringe.

Then a shoulder-length bob.

Then I went a little shorter, then a little shorter, until... I suddenly had a pixie cut.

(Lucky I'm a narcissistic blogger who takes loads of selfies)

I really loved it, but then it happened again - I got bored AGAIN. But aside from going blonde or red, I had nowhere to turn. Now, I am in the midst of the dreaded in-between stage.

And this is where the hair envy comes into play. I keep seeing people with the hair I want. I stop and stare at them. I look at websites and save photos of celebrities and look at them, in the hope of one day being able to take said photos to my amazing hairdresser. I miss my hair.

Tell me I'm not alone. Do you do this? Do you grow your hair and then cut it all off and then grow it again? Do you do that over and over and over like me?

bigwords x

Ps: Thanks everyone for your support and lovely messages.

John Laws Eat Your Heart Out

Today Mia Freedman crossed the line. She wrote a piece which was so purposefully inflammatory it was shameful. Of course she's in the business of creating discussion. There'd be no point in writing columns for your website without causing controversy because, let's face it, you wouldn't get any hits and revenue would suffer.

I have a lot of respect for Mia. She's worked darn hard to build her brand. She gives many women voices. She provides a platform to discuss issues pertinent to women which are often ignored by mainstream media. I believe she gets an unfair share of vitriol. However, I do not always agree with her, in fact I often disagree with her. We come from different lives, different perspectives. That's cool. The world would be a boring place if we all agreed all of the time. But I do not think she is stupid, nor ignorant. So, today when she wrote this article - "The Boy Who Cried 'Racist'" I was disappointed in her, to say the least.

This column was offensive on so many levels. Blackface is racist. Full stop. There's no excuses for it. There's no excuses for condoning it or retweeting it. To say someone "cried racist" is abhorrent. And here's what I want to take aim at - I believe Mia knows all of that. I believe Mia wrote that entire column because she knew it would cause an uproar. I wouldn't be surprised if she hasn't already written her tearful apology as well as commissioned a prominent member of Australia's indigenous community to write a thoughtful piece about why racism is still entrenched in our modern culture - because it is. Maybe she's even got a re-education campaign, to run alongside a paid advertising campaign, ready to go. Maybe not, but she wouldn't have got to where she is without strategising.

She wrote this with stats in mind. She took what is a very serious issue and put dollar signs in front of it. Controversy gets website hits. Website hits increases advertising revenue. A younger, prettier John Laws of sorts.

C'mon Mia, whether you like or not you have a responsibility to encourage equality and understanding, not incite and fuel ignorance.

You can do better.

bigwords x


Ps: Please don't use the comment section on this blog post to turn this space into a nasty "Mia Hate Campaign". I just had to say something on this one.

The Curious Case of the Caravan Park

I am a big advocate of caravan parks. This is mainly because I am a big advocate of toilets. I am also a big advocate of computers being easily charged at all times so our children can watch movies while we drink beer.

Don't get me wrong, I also adore bush camping, but in small bursts. Personally, if I had my way, we'd take our caravan Audrey all around Australia, stopping occasionally to sleep under the stars in remote hideaways and then also parking the caravan in a car park, so we could stay at five star hotels just because five star hotels are the best. None of this is our reality at present, so we are going to find ourselves spending a lot more time in caravan parks.

I am slowly learning about the absurdities of these microcosms of society. Here's some observations I've made:

1) Never set up outside your designated area. We found that out the hard way, when we were passively aggressively "welcomed" by our site neighbours - a crotchety couple in their twilight years. They waited until we had set-up to politely point out the faded line on the curb we had crossed. We then dismantled everything and moved one inch to the right. When we left, we gave them the bird.

Oh, and never brush your teeth in the dish washing sink. You will get crucified.

2) Not all people in their twilight years are assholes. We've met some of the loveliest, funny, kind people in our travels. They agreed the site boundary police we encountered were knobs. The grey nomads have hilarious tales to tell of bypassing caravan parks or leaving early when they spy other grey nomads of the crotchety variety. Finally, they can choose their neighbours.

3 ) Caravans can be so freeing. Judging by the cache of Johnnie Walker Red bottles, the people who own this caravan were obviously very drunk free.

4) There are people who go to caravan parks so they can let other people parent their children. You see them at the playgrounds - the kids who spend all day hovering around waiting for someone, anyone, to give them attention. Their parents are nowhere to be seen. We have three kids of our own - we do not want to watch your children too. I'm pretty sure free-range parenting is also code for lazy.

5) The night time dash to the toilet block is crappy, particularly when it's raining and running makes your boobs bounce awkwardly. And you will always find someone in the bathroom brushing their teeth - even if it's two in the morning.

6) Don't feel shamed into cleaning your caravan or annex. There are many people at caravan parks who quite seriously have nothing else to do, but clean. You will see them - they have a compulsive need to sweep and wash everything, all of the time. And when they are not cleaning they're walking around making sure everyone is sticking to the rules. They quite often notice other caravaners flee caravan parks when they approach.

7) But also be careful not to let your car or caravan get too dirty, because teenagers.

8) You can meet some cool people while caravanning, but you can also meet some loons. Use eye contact sparingly. If you find yourself not liking your neighbours, zip up your annex, or you can always leave - that's the beauty of having a home on wheels.

Once you get your groove on with caravan parks, they can be really fun, particularly when you have kids. And let's face it - you don't have to do the washing or cook dinner. Winning.

bigwords x

Audrey's First Adventure

What a better way to spend Mother's Day than in a caravan with your husband and your three kids. OK, it wasn't all card games and laughter. There were tantrums. There were midnight runs to the toilet, jumping muddy puddles. And one of the moments of pure joy, involved me watching Julie and Julia, with my headphones on to drown out the noise of the Zhu Zhu Pet Movie which was played on repeat for three days.

Audrey, our new caravan, did us proud. Slowly, we are making her more beautiful. A woman in the UK is going to make her some new gingham curtains. We are on the search for some crochet and quilted rugs. And we are yet to fully stock our cocktail bar. Bit-by-bit she will become all she can be.

In the meantime, she is just right. And when it poured with rain - we were toasty warm and dry. There's nothing like listening to the sounds of the waves crashing just outside your window, while you cradle a freshly poured glass of red.

We have so many adventures ahead of us, together as a family. 

bigwords x

The Circle of Life

Being a Mum is the hardest, most fulfilling job I've ever had. Sometimes, I hate it with a passion so vehemently it burns at my soul, fraying the edges. Sometimes, I am so consumed with guilt about everything and I question if my parenting will forever damage my girls' psyches. Sometimes, I just want to run away. No-one will care if I'm gone. Their lives will go on. They will be better off without me nagging and screaming and worrying and getting in everyone's way. Standing in their path to happiness.

And then, there are many times my laugh shakes my belly like an earthquake of joy. The kids' tiny shrills of giggling ring out and wake the flowers from their slumbers. The sounds of purity make the stars twinkle and the sun shine brighter. My love for them reignites the flames of my inner being. It keeps me alive - burning brightly with passion. Sometimes, my body is completely overcome with my overwhelming commitment and love for them; I frighten myself. How can you love that strongly? It is the definition of contentment. Motherhood is a ride into the unknown - one of challenges and bliss - a perfect circle of yin and yang.

I am very lucky. I am a mother and I still have my mother in my life. For many, the choice to have kids is not theirs to make or the choice to see their mother is not one they can choose or want to make. For those who are filled with grief or longing or sadness or questions or resentment on Mother's Day, I send you my understanding and compassion. You are loved.

For those who will snuggle up tight with their kids this Sunday, I wish you continued joy in this tumultuous journey. This circle of life.

bigwords xx


* The necklace in the picture is a stunning gift from the generous Kate Sutton from Uberkate. I chose to have five small love hearts engraved on one side to symbolise the five people in my family. On the other side, I have the initials of my girls and the year they were born and the year my husband and I were married. I adore it. And it also helps when filling out forms and I can't remember what year everyone was born!

I Dare You

So this happened. I was at the local shopping centre with two of my children. They were both hyped on sugar. As it turned out, feeding them donuts before 9am is not the best idea. They were running ahead, giggling, squealing and randomly asking for shit they do not need - "Can we go on a ride?", "Can we have a milkshake?", "Can we have something to eat?", "Can we get that princess statue?". My brain was about to pop. They were like hyenas. I was like a lion ready to pounce.

And then I saw him, a young dude trying to stop unsuspecting people and engage them in conversation, so he could try and sell stuff to them. I immediately averted my eyes. It's best to never get eye contact. Always approach them with speed and determination. Always "get distracted" at the the moment they try to talk to you. I am a champion at never being stopped. I am like a tiger. An invisible tiger.

This time, the guy thought he'd try a new tactic. He yelled out to me. He made a near fatal mistake. And this is why. He called me: "Super Mum".

I stopped. I pointed in his direction and in my most menacing voice I told him to "NEVER call me Super Mum".

He was very lucky I didn't punch in him in the groin.

The moral of the story is don't be a fuck face.

bigwords x

PS: Don't forget to enter this competition. You could win $1,000 to spend on clothes. 

Dancing In The Driveway

Her tiny toes perched atop her father's feet and they danced together. Spinning around and gliding from one side of the caravan to the other. From the street, their neighbours would have only seen a man swaying listlessly from side-to-side. But for those inside the van, it was a night time dance party in the driveway. The three girls laughed and their parents smiled Cheshire Cat grins.

He took his wife's hand and pulled her close. The sound of their children's giggles tinkled in the background like fairy glitter. Her heart filled with pure joy. A single tear rolled down her cheek. This moment is a memory shared, never to be lost.

From the outside, it looks like an old caravan. For the people in it, it signifies a slice of freedom. The ability to pack up and go at a moment's notice. A place for a family to gather and experience the world together. No commitments, no daily drudgery; just dancing under the moonlight.

This is Audrey. She is the newest member of our family and we adore her.

One day we will take her out of the driveway on a proper adventure. In the meantime, have you got any decorating tips for us?

bigwords x

So Many Choices

My mum raised me alone. She worked many jobs. Sometimes she didn't work at all. Sometimes I went to my friend's house to fill up on food as we didn't have much at home. I'm not sure how many choices she had, she sacrificed many of her choices when she decided to be a single parent in the 1970s. But she did choose to encourage me to pick good friends and work hard at school.

I was the first woman in my family to get a University degree. I beat out hundreds of other hopefuls to secure a journalism cadetship. I traveled to London, all expenses paid, in a News Ltd work exchange. I went on to work in a variety of media organisations. I had a promising career.

I got married. My husband and I jointly purchased a house. He quit his high paying job, to start a business. I supported him financially. We chose to do that together, because we could. We ate a lot of cheese toasties. We still do.

We decided to have children. You might say "we had that choice", but really we had no idea what we were getting into. No-one does.

Our business grew and my husband set-up an office at home so he could share parenting responsibilities. I gave up full-time work, to raise the kids. We chose to put our first two children in childcare a couple of days a week so that we could both work from home. We hired a cleaner. We were lucky. Many are not. We had the financial, emotional and physical means to make choices.

We then chose to have another child. Our finances were blowing out. We stopped childcare as we could no longer afford it. We cancelled the cleaner. We sold our car to pay a tax bill and moved closer to town so we had better access to public schools and public transport.

We could have both gone back to work full-time, but we chose not to, because we decided we could get by. For us, staying at home while our kids were young was a choice we wanted to make. We often wonder if it would be easier to work for someone else and live with the guilt.

I tried to learn to bake to save on food costs. Our kids choose to eat a lot, all of the time. We bake together, sometimes I take photos of what we cook, but mostly I don't because there are no filters grainy enough to cover up the burned bits. Sometimes we choose to take the kids to Maccas, because we can't be bothered. I even do craft with the kids and am thinking about making poms poms, but that's another story. I suppose you could call me retro, but that would be an inaccurate description of my life choices.

I clean the toilet, my husband mows the lawns. We choose to perpetuate these outdated gender roles because I'd rather clean shit than drag bins down the driveway.

Mostly, we spend a lot of our time telling our children to go and watch tv or play outside because we have work to do so we can pay our bills. We chose not to work for someone else and because of that we have no superannuation, no holiday pay and no carer's leave. We live from invoice to invoice. We chose that so that we could spend more time telling our kids to find something to do so that we could sit at our computers all day trying to get work done to buy food. I am not sure how much quality time we are actually spending with our kids as opposed to working in an office. But to be really honest - I hate offices.

We all have choices. Oh wait, no we don't. Many people in this world have no choices.

But for those of us with choices, they all come with trade-offs.

bigwords x

On A Hill - Flinders Ranges

(Flinders Ranges, Rawnsley Park Station)

I'm standing on a hill,

it's very tall.

And all I can not see,

I imagine.

Bianca Wordley

My first visit to the Flinders Ranges was a spiritual experience. Breathtaking. All. Of. It.

We spent one night at the Rawnsley Park Station caravan park bush camping under the shooting stars with a view of magnificent proportions. There we toasted marshmallows and watched the sunrise.

Then we had two nights luxuriating in a Rawnsley Park Station eco-villa where we watched a hot air balloon drift in the morning sky. We took long baths, drank wine on the deck, spotted kangaroos and regrouped as a family.

A meander through the ranges, rocky creek beds, the colours of the earth - deep reds, pinks, browns, dusty sand and visit to a shearing shed.

All the images in this post were taken by Brett Hartwig from Archie Five Photography

The Flinders Ranges are one of Australia's must see tourist destinations. Go there, the experience will speak to your soul. There's magic in those ranges.

bigwords xx

bigwords and her family were gifted the three day holiday at Rawnsley Park Station - a place that I would seriously recommend to all. The bush camping sites offer spectacular scenery and serenity. The eco-villas are fabulously decadent. We are eternally grateful to our hosts Tony and Julie. It was amazing.