I'm so excited as I have been recognised for being a Stylish Blogger. This means I've been tagged and I will need to comply with a few simple rules and after what can only be described as a "fleeting chance to flaunt my ego", I must then pass the baton on to 15 other bloggers I regard as "stylish".
Thanks to the ever stylish Emma K from Cocktails at Naptime for awarding me with a Stylish Blogger Award.
Here's the fine print: 1) Thanks and linkage back to my pal. 2) Share 7 things about myself. 3) Award 15 recently discovered bloggers the Stylish Bloggers Award and 4) contact them and tell them that they, too, are Stylish.
So here goes it, rather than show embarrassing photos of my past style blunders and rather than talk about style icons or give you seven unknown facts about me, I've decided to show you my seven "can't live without items in my wardrobe".
bigwords' seven must-haves in her wardrobe
1) Thongs
Here is where I admit I have nine pairs of thongs. Different colours, different styles, fancy, not so fancy. Havaianas are my thong of choice. They are comfy. I also have a leather pair with an ankle strap which I love. My favourite pair is black and I wear them way too often.
2) Camper platforms
I don't wear heels often as I am not working and I don't go out enough to places which require them. My Camper platforms are the most comfortable heels in the world. People always comment on them and I can wear them all night.
3) RM Williams cowboy boots
These trusty boots, which I got made for me, have been my best friend through three pregnancies. When I wasn't wearing thongs I was wearing these. I love these boots. I must say though that I need a bit of distance from them for awhile, but I will wear them again.
4) Ray-Bans
My new favourites sunglasses of choice. I have two pairs. A classic black Jackie Ohh style and an original Wayfarer. They keep the sun out, have great lenses and I feel cool when I'm wearing them.
5) A bag - clutch or over-the-shoulder. I love them all.
My current favourite is my new little Oroton number I got in the sales! When I'm wearing it, it means I'm out child free! No massive nappy bag to lug around.
6) Target skinny leg jeans(That's not me in the photo my arse is much bigger than that!)
Target jeans are the only jeans which actually fit my body shape. I got two pairs of these jeans nearly two years ago and am so happy to be able to fit into them again. The short leg style is a must for me and finally I don't have to get my jeans taken up. I wear them constantly. I'm looking for some new jeans suggestions though, got any?
7) Country Road maxi skirt in black (model wearing stone coloured version of the skirt)
Nikki from Styling You got me on to this skirt and I've been wearing it constantly ever since. It's slimming, versatile, doesn't need ironing and surprisingly cool to wear in hot weather. Love it.
And I know I'm only meant to go to seven, but what outfit would be complete without an icy cold glass of G&T with a slice of lime.
My night started out fine. I was lying in bed, reading a literary masterpiece. Well, not quite. It was another "pink cover" book. I don't even know its name, but everyone finds love and all is good in the world and at some stage someone buys a great pair of shoes and a handbag. I have a pile of them on my bedside table. The "pink cover" books are a hangover of pregnancy and newborns. The crazy hormonal imbalances of pregnancy and then the zombie-like, post-pregnancy state combine to make it impossible for me to read anything of substance. Consequently, I have a rule that when I go to the library I pick out only books with pink covers. With three children threatening to scream, run or pull books off the shelves, I rush up and down the aisles madly shoving all the "pink cover" books into my library bag. I've even sent my husband to get me some. He was more embarrassed borrowing "those" books than getting me tampons from the chemist. Thankfully, I am presently nearing the end of my "pink covers" stage as there are only so many happy endings one person can stomach. Anyway, I digress. I was reading.
Lying there quietly. Ok, that's not entirely correct. I'll have to stop again. Baby 3 was intermittently gurgling, crying, laughing and then at times snoring while she slept. And my friend, the 2 Year Old Who Never Sleeps, was lovingly not sleeping beside me. In general, it was not very relaxing, but in terms of my daily life, lying in bed, albeit with a loud baby and a "nose honking" 2yo is quite peaceful.
So, there I was in a bed staring at a book with a pink cover, trying to ignore two of my children, hoping Nearly Four wasn't about to join us and pretty confident my husband wouldn't be "trying it on" with an audience. The heroine in my book was about to get married, because that's what girls do in "pink cover" books. They get married, buy shoes and work in the media, fashion outlets or in public relations. I was engrossed in the story. Will the wedding at The Plaza go off without a hitch? Will her dress be ready in time? Will her new shoes match? Will her PR campaign for the rockstar, with the crazy whirlwind life catapult him up the charts and lead to the promotion she desperately needs to pay her credit card debts? Will she grow a brain? And then, it happened. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Is that a mosquito? I will kill you mosquito. Now, although I do eat meat and wear leather, I am a pretty free spirit. I am not a supporter of fox hunts or killing spiders. I find it hard enough playing the Buck Hunter game on my phone. (Ok, that's a blatant lie. I love shooting the little deers and even though I don't get points, I even try and kill the rabbits and the birds). However, there is something about mosquitos which transform me into a killing machine. If they were silent, I don't think they'd bother me. If I was wearing headphones I could cope with the bites and the itching. It's that fucking bzzzzzzzzzzz sound. It drives me insane. It is well and truly up there with "I want something to eat" and the Home and Away theme song.
As mosquito season has only just begun, I am out of practice, so no matter what I did I could not swat it. I jumped, I slapped, I ran around my room clapping at nothing in the air. I knew it hadn't chosen to fly out of my room. I knew it was lying in wait for me to get comfortable again. I knew it was watching me. And what's worse, I begun to suspect there may have been more than one. It was an ambush and I was their prey. They wanted to suck the blood out of me whilst driving me insane with their never-ending, high pitched, soul destroying cries. They were punishing me for reading "pink cover" books, for crimes against writing.
Not successful in my hunt for the insects, I settled back under the covers and began reading again. My husband joined me in bed, after taking the now sleeping 2yo back to her room. It was finally quiet. Even the baby was sleeping. As I lay there, I spied a mosquito on the ceiling. I jumped up and threw myself into the air, trying to pounce on the unsuspecting creature. Once again I missed. At the last second, it darted off and I made my descent onto the bed. "No way," I screamed, defeated. "Aaaaarrggghhh," my husband yelled out in pain, as my foot landed directly in his crotch.
No longer could I focus on the pages of my book. My husband kept going on about "the pain" and I was too busy trying to work out ways to trick the mosquitos into "thinking" I was relaxed, so they would come back to harass me. It was my plan to ambush them, but they knew. They stayed away, until we turned off the light, until we entered that peaceful, just before you fall asleep moment. Bzzzzzzzz. I wrapped my pillow over my ears, trying to drown out the noise. It didn't work.
For the rest of the night, my husband and I tossed and turned as the nasty little creatures bzzzzzzzd around our heads and occasionally you could hear the sounds of slapping, as we both attempted to swat the mosquitos - each time we'd miss, each time we'd slap ourself on the head. It's going to be long, hot Summer; you better watch out mosquitos, because I'm working on my aim and next time, instead of knackering my husband, I'll get you, you tiny little fuckers.
Imagine a world without inventive people. There'd be no phones, no modern day healthcare, no trampolines, no gin (gasp) and there wouldn't be this fine fellow trying to come up with a solution to having to wear those nasty 3D glasses.
If you haven't "followed" bigwords yet, please do, and while you're at it, pop over to bigwords' Facebook page and click like, if you like!
Let me start with this disclaimer. I am completely in support of women who choose to work. And I acknowledge the women who would so desperately rather be at home, but out of financial necessity have to work full time. It is my choice to work only small amounts from home. It is my choice to have babies and forgo my career. This is my story and these are my personal circumstances. I support choice. And the simple fact I feel it necessary to even write this disclaimer, for fear of finger pointing, pisses me off.
I am in a lucky position that we can afford for me to be a full time, stay at home Mum. I say lucky, because for me I think these early years when my babies are still babies are precious. For me, I know how important it is for my babies to look to me, and my husband, for their daily needs. Without fail, I'm always there to pick them up when they fall, give them kisses and watch them grow. I'm their go-to person.
Since my first child was born nearly 4 years ago, I have relished in my role as Mum. I now have three children, my youngest is 6 months and my second born is 2 and-a-half years old. Before my third child was born, people would say you're such a natural mother and you seem so relaxed. And you know what, most of the time I was. I was really enjoying it.
I remember hearing a friend say she had "reached her patience threshold" with two children and would not be having a third. At the time, I thought to myself how I had not reached that threshold. How, I was at times grumpy, bored and annoyed, but I hadn't reached a "patience threshold". As I lay my hands on my swollen belly, I remember wondering to myself how I would cope with three children under four. Would I be able to do it?
Well, I don't think I can. Not with the same relaxed manner as before. I've changed, I'm uptight.
I'm struggling. I've reached my "patience threshold" and as a result I am paralysed with guilt. I feel guilty for wishing my children would go and sit in another room far away from me, but most parent's feel like that at least once a day, don't they? Mostly, I feel guilty for even thinking a couple of days working outside of the home would make me a better mother. I made a pact to my children when they were inside my belly that I would not leave them. My two eldest children go to childcare for one day a week, to prepare them, and me, for kindy. The thought of leaving them any longer tears me apart. The thought of not giving my baby the same undivided care as her two sisters pulls at my heart. The guilt of even thinking about it is eating away at me.
But, I am not being the mother I want to be. I am beginning to realise that I am spending too much time with my children. I am shouting more, I cringe when they shout demands at me. Today, I put a packet of biscuits in a bowl on the kitchen floor and told them to eat as many as they wanted because I couldn't deal with them haranguing me for food anymore. There are days that instead of waking up with a smile on my face, I have a tight knot in my tummy. I look at the clock willing it to be 5pm so I can have a glass of wine. That's not what motherhood is meant to be like, well not the way I do it anyway. I'm a fun Mum.
Once my eldest starts kindergarten in a couple of months, I think I will have a different perspective, but until that time I know I need a bit more time to myself because I'm scared my babies will forget that relaxed, self assured mother they once had. I want to find her again. I want to get that damn "patience threshold" monkey off my back.
PS: I wrote this post after a particularly trying few days. After I saved it to my drafts folder I skyped my husband this message: "Wednesday's are now mine". So, from this week I will head to his office space and work on his business and my freelancing. He will do all things kids. He's happy, I'm happy and what matters most to me in the world; the kids will be happy.
How have you dealt with the guilt of working or not working?
bigwords has a Facebook page. Please come and like it, if you like!
I didn't get his name, nor did he tell me how he got to Australia, but what I did find out was he was from Afghanistan and he was in his twenties. He was the only member of his family living in Adelaide and he was a taxi driver.
I'd had a few champagnes with a group of women who were all journos with me at The Advertiser. We worked together a decade ago, we share a bond. It was a wonderful evening of swapping stories, updating each other on our lives and passing our phones around the table to show-off photos of our children. We have history.
Jumping into the taxi, I was not looking forward to the drive back up the freeway. Often taxi driver's are tentative to make the trip, unsure of night driving on winding roads, and I get a bit nervy sitting in a car with a stranger. Normally, I call my husband from the back seat, talking loudly to alert the driver there is someone waiting for me at home. This time the driver turns to me smiling and this time I sit in the front seat. I never do that. There's something about this man which makes me feel at ease. He looks kind.
"What was the restaurant like?" he asks.
"Great," I reply. "Amazing Thai food and the service was fast and friendly. It's a fantastic place, you should try it."
"I'll keep it in mind," he replies. "I always ask my passengers what their favourite restaurants are. I like going out and trying different food. There's this Asian restaurant in North Adelaide I really like. It's cheap, fast and the food is always good. Asian food is my favourite."
"You're not Asian though are you?" I ask. I'm always curious about taxi drivers. Where they come from? Why they drive cabs? What they do, and don't, like about their job? "Where are you from? Not that it matters, but I was just wondering what nationality you are?"
"I'm from Afghanistan," he says. "I've been here eight years."
The next 20 minutes we talk non-stop about his life away from home. He tells me how after the Taliban's September 11 attacks in the USA and the subsequent commencement of the latest conflict in Afghanistan, his family made the difficult, yet only decision, for him to leave the country. As the eldest son, he would be a target of the Taliban. If he'd stayed, he most likely would have been killed. "We were a very wealthy family," he explains. "I was not safe anymore. I had to leave. When I came to Australia I knew no-one. I really missed my family and friends; everything was so different in Adelaide. I was alone and scared."
Since arriving in Adelaide, he's had numerous jobs and even tried studying, but all the time the pressure was on him to make money so he could send it back to his family. There was a time, he was working 100 hours a week doing three jobs - in a factory, a shop and taxi driving at night. "I have to send money back home to pay for my little brother and sister to go to university," he explains. "It's very difficult for me, I get very tired, but I have no choice."
I ask him if people are nice to him or if he's encountered racism, particularly driving cabs. He just smiles and nods his head, but says he prefers to focus on the positive side of his job. "I get to meet a lot of people," he replies. "I enjoy driving." He says although he misses his family, he has formed a strong network of new friends a "surrogate family", mostly other men from Afghanistan who are in the same position as him. They understand each other. They can reminisce about home together. They're creating their own history.
"The other night, me and my friends decided we wanted to do something, so we picked up a carton of beer and drove to Rapid Bay," he laughs. "We sat on the beach and played music, drank beer and danced around just being stupid. We were saying to each other how lucky we were here. How we could never have done that in Afghanistan."
I tell him how I have very limited knowledge of Afghanistan and ask him if Khaled Hosseini's book, The Kite Runner, is a true reflection of his home. "Oh yes," he says, his face lighting up. "Whenever I go home I plan my trip around the same time as the kite running. It is such a fantastic time to be at home, the kite running is so much fun."
I ask him if he will ever move back and he says it would be unlikely. He has begun to think of Adelaide as his home. "When I go back home, it doesn't take long for me to start missing here, my friends and my freedom and I miss things like Farmers Union Iced Coffee," he laughs. "Soon my brother and sister will finish university so I will not have to send money back home. It will be better for me then."
As we pull into my driveway, I wish the trip took longer as there is so much more I want to ask him, I apologise for having asked him so many questions. "I wouldn't be a taxi driver if I didn't like to talk," he says. "I wouldn't be a journalist if I didn't like asking questions," I reply. Maybe that's why taxi drivers fascinate me, they always have a story to tell.
bigwords has a Facebook page. Check it out and click like, if you like!
It's been a rough week for many people and I've found myself drawing my family closer to me. There's been a lot of extra kisses, a lot of snuggles on the couch, a lot of us time. I've been saying "I love you" a lot more than normal and that, my friends, is a lot. My family is everything to me.
This is part of a blog hop hosted by the gorgeous Maxabella Loves.
bigwords was looking a little tired so opted for a facelift. A little nip and tuck. A bit of blogtox. A blogover.
This is what she looked like before...
And now, thanks to the most wonderfully gorgeous and exceptionally talented, Katrina Chambers, bigwords is all fancy pants and dripping in delectable chandeliers. I was lucky enough to win this blogover, but if you're in the market for a fresh new website or blog, check out Katrina's amazing portfolio of designs at www.mediamad.com.au
Thanks Katrina, you truly perform bloglifts of the best kind xx
As I sit and type this post I am watching my Twitter stream flowing almost as fast as the water flooding townships and rushing towards the Brisbane CBD. My television is flashing up a succession of devastating images of a State under water. The list of townships being urged to evacuate grows longer by the minute. It's a sensory overload. A deluge of disaster.
Today, it is eerily quiet where I live. Despite a weather prediction of a sunny 30 degrees, my house in the Adelaide Hills is surrounded by fog. A light sprinkling of rain has been falling all day. I feel a world away from this ongoing crisis, but the darkness enveloping my home feels appropriate.
The vision I'm watching, the news updates which have consumed me and the tweets from those I have become to know, fill me with concern. I can not imagine what people waiting for the floods to come must be feeling. I can not imagine what people waiting for loved ones to come home must be feeling. I can not imagine what those huddled in the rain with no home must be feeling. I can not imagine what those people swept to their death while going about their day to day business must have felt in their final moments.
All I do know is my heart is with all those people waiting, all those who are scared and all those living this very real and terrifying catastrophe. All I do know is my family can give money to help those to recover, when the time comes. All I do know is I will still be thinking about them once all the tv crews have packed up and gone home and the twitter stream slows to a trickle, when the flood dries up and the sun shines again, because that is when the people living this nightmare will need our support most.
I also want to take this moment to send my love to a fellow blogger, Lori, who this week lost her husband. My thoughts are with you and your two gorgeous children.
It's been a dark week, I only hope the storm of sadness breaks soon and a steady stream of light shines like a beacon of hope for those at this time who need it most. xx
New to blogging? Just joined Twitter? No idea what's going on? Need to know what it's all about? Well, you haven't come to the right place, but hey, while you're here...
When I recently started blogging I was clueless, still am, so I thought I'd compile a cheat sheet of blogging and Twitter terms. Here it is... drum roll please...
bigwords' Blogtwitionary of Terms Necessary To Navigate The World Of Blogging and Twittering In This, The Year of 2011.
Blog - A self-indulgent forum to write about yourself and your thoughts or a place to flog products often for little, or no, monetary reward.
Grab my button - No, don't "grab my button" only my husband is allowed to do that. This is when you have your logo on your blog and you encourage others to put a copy of it on their blog. When one of their readers presses on it in curiosity they are instantly taken from their blog to your blog. Hey presto, you steal them away. Ingenious! I have not worked out how to do that yet, but watch out because one day I will or I might just sit back and have a gin instead.
Linky MckLinky (aka Linky Tools or Mr Linky MckSlinky) - Some way skinny dude called MckLinky set up a system which allows people to join in on your themed blog post and by doing so your blog post is then "linked" to another's and so forth. This is designed to introduce your blog to new readers and attract new followers. Actually, it's not that exciting, I just like the name of it. It's slinkalicious.
Blog Hop - It's a little dance you do when you've finally finished your latest blog post or it's when you jump on the bandwagon of another blogger's great idea. A list of the blogs participating in the blog hop appear at the bottom of your blog post so you, and your readers, can ignore them or if polite, and have time on your hands, can read them. Seriously though, who has time on their hands?
Trolls - People (of limited intelligence and with lots of time on their hands) who think bloggers (with limited patience for arseholes and no time on their hands) actually care about what their little narrow-minded brains think.
Twitter - A self-deprecating forum in which to desperately chase the attention of others or a place to vent, laugh and share or a virtual pub where people who no longer leave the house at night can drink alone, but feel like they aren't. Depending on how I am feeling about myself at the time, or how drunk I am, I can fall into all three categories.
Followers - People who read your blog posts or, in this instance, tweets. Generally, you follow each other, but if they don't follow you back I suppose you are bordering on stalker behaviour. A little bit like when you tweet people and they completely ignore you. So, you tweet them again because you think maybe they didn't get your tweet or Twitter "lost" their reply or or or... Imagine standing in a room with someone who kept talking at you, but then when you responded they ignored you, but still they continued to talk at you. I give up, I can't explain that behaviour - it is simply rude.
RT - Re-Tweet. You don't need to know about this if you never write anything remotely interesting or funny, but if you do, someone might RT your message to their list of followers on Twitter. By doing so, others, who do not know you, may wish to read more of your witty banter and become a follower of yours on Twitter. More followers mean more people to bore and visa versa.
DM - The abbreviation for a Direct Message, similar in part to an email. It is only shared between yourself and the sender. It's a private way for someone to bitch about others or to share private details with you. All of this bonding is still limited to 140 characters and is also limited to people who follow each other. It is all too common to see a tweet: "Tried to DM you, but you do not follow me". This can be awkward and everyone can witness it, which also makes it embarrassing. The simple fact is, sometimes Twitter just un-follows people on your behalf without you knowing it. And sometimes you aren't following someone, but you truly thought you were, and sometimes, well... ahem...
Tweeps - People who you send to and receive tweets from. It's sort of like your crew, your virtual mates, people who follow similar people to you, aka your homies.
Stabby - This is a term people who are menstruating use to describe the emotional roller coaster of hormonal imbalances in their body. It is often used in a sentence such as: "I want to stab my husband" or "The person who looked at me at the shops today made me want to stab them".
: ) - This is a smiley face. Do I really need to explain that?
*...* - Insert whatever you want between the stars to describe what you are doing or thinking, for example: * shakes head and laughs at the person who didn't know what the smily face was *, *thinks to myself how that person used to be me *, * stops laughing : ( *.
Tweavesdrop - This is when other people on Twitter are going about their own business and having a "private" discussion amongst themselves in a very public arena and then someone else joins in which is the whole point of Twitter. Quite often their incredibly vibrant, witty and intelligent comment will be preceded with * tweavesdropping * to indicate that they are fully aware they are BUTTING IN!
Meh - I actually still have no idea what this means. Whatever.
LOL - Laugh Out Loud. Not, Lots Of Love (which could be awkward if used in the wrong context, eg: "Sorry to hear you lost your job LOL"). And nor does it mean, Likes A Lot, like I used to think. I don't even know how I came to that conclusion - the acronym does not match in ANY WAY.
ROFL - Rolls On Floor Laughing. I don't think I've ever done that, but wouldn't it be funny if people who wrote that were actually rolling around the floor laughing? Imagine, you were watching someone at a coffee shop tapping away quietly on their lap top and then "BAM" they are on the ground rolling around laughing. Freak!
PMSL - Pissing My Self Laughing. Now imagine, if someone actually pissed themselves. Ok, don't.
FTW - For The Win or as I like to think, Fuck The World. I think it's up to you to decide which way to go on this one. I'm definitely in the camp for the latter. No surprises there.
IRL - This one took me ages to work out and I was too shy to ask. No, it isn't a computer reference, like URL, but it could relate. It means In Real Life, like: "I am a sexy bitch, but IRL I am butt ugly". I suppose URL could mean Un Real Life, which pretty much sums up the blogging and Twitter community. It's a life away from your life; an escape. It's fun and when you need it, it's really supportive. Just watch out though, as some people take it a bit more seriously than others.
Have you got any words to add to the list?
* bigwords has a Facebook Page, please come and check it out and click like, if you like!
I read somewhere recently that a woman had decided not to make New Year resolutions and instead was having a New Year's theme. I really like the idea and have decided to ambush it. My theme this year is going to be dependability, acceptance, new beginnings, love and fun.
Dependability - This is a trait I have been working on and getting better at. I will continue to be a mother my children can always count on and a better wife. If I say I'll do something, I will. I realised recently that in order to meet commitments to myself and other people it's best to be realistic. No more empty promises. I have stopped setting unrealistic goals, like I will be wearing a bikini by the end of the year or I will run a marathon, but I can promise to live a healthier life and to try and beat my previous City to Bay time. This doesn't mean I've stopped setting myself challenges, life would be a bore without challenges. I am getting better at editing my challenges. It's amazing how great you feel when you tick challenges off your list, instead of never meeting expectations. And watch out, when I see you and there's a "we should catch up soon" comment made, I will follow through. Expect a phone call.
Acceptance - This is something I need to work on. People are not perfect, they make mistakes, they have their own issues. I need to be better at cutting them some slack. I need to be more accepting of different ways of doing things and of other people's flaws. I also need to be more accepting of things not always going to plan, of drivers on the road not always being considerate, of children not always being clean and well behaved, of life throwing you curve balls. Just surrender, relax and not be so anal. Accept how life is and try not to control every detail. Take pleasure out of the unexpected. Chill out.
New beginnings - This year we hope to move house. This year we hope to change the direction of our business. This year I hope to learn new skills. This year my eldest child starts kindy. This year will be full of new beginnings. This is exciting.
Love - With three gorgeous children, a husband who is beyond amazing, a beautiful mum and a fantastic group of friends I am lucky to be surrounded by so much love. My family and friends are my everything. I will love more and bitch less.
Fun - I will continue to focus on the joy, humour, silliness and fun of life. Dwelling on the negative is a waste of energy. I prefer to be glass half full. If my glass ever gets empty, please remind me to get over myself and pass me the gin.
Did you make a list of 2011 resolutions? Or did you give it a miss this year? Or perhaps you just have a favourite blog of 2010 which summed up your year. Please feel free to link up!
* bigwords has a Facebook Page, please come and check it out and click like, if you like!
