Vagina, vagina, vagina

Now I've got your attention. I've not much to say today as I've just emerged from days of gastro hell. First, Miss 5 fell to it, which kicked off many all-nighters surrounded by buckets and towels. A day later Miss 2 succumbed. Within hours, Miss 4 was also a victim. So, we settled in for another all-nighter, this time managing dual vomits. We were given one day's reprieve and then it happened - my husband got it, which immediately triggered me. I was the lucky one of all. You see, I'd been a feverish mess the whole time and had struggled through the days prior, gastro was just an added bonus. Nothing like hurling with a sore throat. Oh, and I had my period, just to make it even more joyful. And to top it all off, today I woke up with a cold sore. Grossest few days ever.

But I did manage to write about how my "pussy is not the prettiest in the cat show" over at The Hoopla. http://thehoopla.com.au/designer-vaginas/ 

How was your weekend?

bigwords x

I Had Sex With George Clooney

OK, I didn't really. I nearly did. And it was in my dream. My stupid sexless "wake up before you have the actual sex with George Clooney" dream. The dream he seductively asks you back to his hotel room and before the sex, even before the get nude and kiss my neck part, you wake up. You wake up not getting to have sex with George Clooney. A SEXLESS DREAM. Who does that?

Anyway, here's another picture of George, who I nearly had sex with in my dream last night.

And just one more of him with added extras, because I can.

(now that it'd be a dream I wouldn't won't to wake up too early from)

Do you ever wake up before the good bits?

bigwords x

How Do You Know You're Done?

With three amazingly gorgeous children, I get asked a lot by friends how did we know we were finished having kids.

My answer's changed over time. Just after the birth of our third child I would coo: "Oh I don't I know, we just knew we wanted to have three children and we've been so very lucky."

One year down the track and I'd explain: "My body couldn't take another one. My hair is thinner, my tummy ravaged and I feel really old. I just know my body couldn't cope with growing another person."

Now, two years on from the birth of our third child and this is how I know we are done. When people tell me they are having a baby I immediately feel much heartfelt joy for them, but instead of getting a little flutter in my belly and being absorbed with ideals of romanticism - smiling babies, tiny hands, squishy fingers, overwhelming joy - I instead wince a little. No-one can see me, but I cringe and then do a secret happy dance that it is not us having another child.

When people ask me now I say: "Oh we are never going to have another child or I may have to be institutionalised. I could not do it."

This is not where you attack me for being ungrateful or for whinging, this is just how I am feeling right now. With a 5yo, 4yo and a 2yo in the house parenting never lets up. There are no wistful days playing endlessly and snuggling on the couch for naps together. There are snippets and moments of pure indulgence and every day my children fill my heart with love. But mostly, I am tired. Exhausted actually. We are outnumbered, overwhelmed and ground down

Friends with three or more children have told us this stage will pass. Parenting will still be challenging, but this intensive hands-on, never sleeping, constant tantruming, always someone sick stage will soon get easier.

Today my husband is on an all-day photo shoot. We've both had about three hours sleep, tag teaming it while Miss 5 vomited throughout the night. Miss 4 awoke with a fever and joined us in the early hours of the morning and Miss 2 woke up at 5.30am in full, 2yo, demanding, never-ending flight.

I am very grateful. I adore my children. It's just this stage is weighing me down. The past couple of years have been one long journey of sleeplessness. 

So, if you want to know how to know when you're done. This is it. 

Are you done?

bigwords x

Santa's In Da House

I've been emailing Santa a lot lately.

Got a present you'd like? That's cool I'll email Santa.

Worried he won't know where to drop the presents off? That's fine I'll email Santa.

Been a shit of a kid? I am emailing Santa. You wait until he hears about your behaviour.

Not going to bed? I'll email Santa if you're not careful. You know he's always watching.

Yesterday, I took it a little further than I was hoping. I said it in public, so actual strangers heard me. I then said it on radio, so even more strangers heard me. We were discussing Santa and I just had to go there.

You see, I was shopping with Miss 4 at her favourite place in the world, Big W. I'd found the perfect Xmas present for Miss 2 and with only one left I knew I had to get it. I was in a bit of a bind as I didn't want Miss 4 to witness me purchasing the present, so I took a chance, grabbed the toy off the shelf and went to the lay-by counter. While Miss 4 watched on, I asked the shop assistant if I could leave the toy for Santa, who would collect it the next day. Of course, I'd have to email him to let him know, but I was pretty sure he could fit it into his busy schedule.

"Sure", replied the shop assistant, looking at me strangely. "What name do you want me to put it under?"

"Santa," I said, staring awkwardly at the assistant.

"Oh, ok," he said smirking. "Santa comes here a lot to collect toys, so perhaps if you also put your name then he'll know what family to deliver it to at Christmas time."

"Brilliant idea," I said, almost high-fiving him.

All the while Miss 4 listened, unfazed by the entire exchange.

As we walked off, she looked at me and rattled off all the other toys she wanted to put on her Xmas list.

"You can email him, OK?," she smiled.

"Sure thing honey," I said. "Sure thing."

Do you email Santa too?

bigwords x

The Sweet Face

I keep seeing her face. It's a sweet face. She has sparkly eyes. She has that look of a girl who has the world ahead of her. The look of the young.

She has been missing for 10 days. A body has been found. Her disappearance is now a homicide investigation.

Her mother's devastation is unfathomable.

Today, as I watched the news updates flash on my screen. I could hear my girls chatting over breakfast. Milk spluttering on the table. Rice bubbles flinging off the table onto the floor.

My girls yesterday formed a girls only club - The Woodland Friends. It started at the garden shop. They took over the cubbie and banned all the boys. And when we returned home they put a hand-drawn sign on their bedroom door and closed it. Inside, they giggled and whispered and schemed.

They are my everything.

I got off the couch and walked over to the kitchen table. I touched them each gently on their head and I willed them safe, happy, healthy lives. I know it's out of my control, but I could feel my energy passing through my fingers straight into their inner beings.

And then our day continued.

bigwords x

A Message For The Men Out There

NO. That will not work.

(It takes a whole lot more than that.) 

What does your partner need to do to get you in the mood?

bigwords x

PS: I hope you all get lucky this weekend.

Thursday Morning

Our day started with a trip to the hospital for Miss 5 who we thought was having another asthma attack. It then continued with the toddler being a toddler. At one stage while she was writhing around the floor in the back seat of the car I asked if perhaps she'd like to go and live with another family. Then, I spent a good 10 minutes trying to prise my arm away from a sobbing Miss 4 at the kindy drop-off. 

A croissant inhaled. A coffee inhaled and another visit to the doctor to get more meds for Miss 5 and the morning was complete.

Yesterday, I asked for ideas for blog posts because I'd run out of things to say. Today, I had too many thoughts.

For the man who suggested I write about 'The Role of Hallucinogenics in Contemporary Mothering', you have no idea how often I think that I am on the biggest acid trip. That my life is just one crazy series of LSD adventures, but without the soul emptying come downs. Being a parent is a trip.

Every parent at some stage looks around them and wonders how they got to be the guardians of little human beings and what makes them qualified for the responsibility. There's a lot of boring, a lot of masquerading, a lot of the unknown, a lot of joy, a lot of belly laughs and much heart-filling love. 

Everyday I am not sure what to expect. Life twists and turns. Tomorrow, I am hoping to wake up a little later than today with three healthy, happy kids. 

What did your morning look like today?

bigwords x

FOUND

Inside this postal bag is LuLu the Lion. She is Miss 5's class mascot. When on an adventure with another classmate, she went missing. That was over a fortnight ago. I made it my mission to find her and today, after much investigation, she was posted back to us. Thanks to some lovely winery staff, she was returned. There is a class of kids who are right now hugging LuLu with all their might.

I think finding LuLu was probably more important to me than anyone else. Kids move on pretty quickly - they have embraced the replacement class mascot Luca with fervour. I couldn't.

You see, when I saw Miss 5's tears rolling down her sweet cheeks after she found out LuLu was missing I made her a promise. I promised her I'd find LuLu. I held her tight and wiped the tears from her eyes. I saw the hope in her face. She trusts me. She still thinks I can do anything. I couldn't let her down.

I try to only make promises that I can keep, but sometimes I make them knowing I can not. I've promised my girls I'll always be there for them, knowing that I will die one day. I've promised that I won't let anything happen to them, knowing that it's out of my control. I've promised I will change the laws to make same-sex marriage legal, knowing that I am not a law maker. I've promised them a life of peace, knowing that my hope for a better world is just that, hope.

When I promised my little girl I'd find her class mascot, I knew I had to.

When it arrived today, my husband told me to jump in the car and drive straight to the school to deliver her. "You have to," he said. "It's LuLu".

So I did. I drove like a rally driver and ran to the classroom. I called Miss 5 aside and let her peak inside the bag. Her face lit up. She looked at me like I was the most amazing person in the entire world.

I'd found LuLu. I'd kept my promise. And that my friends is everything.

Do you keep your promises?

bigwords x

Who Is That?

When you look in the mirror what do you see? Do you see your flaws or your assets? Do you see what other people see when they look at you? Or do you only see your own warped vision?

Lately, I've been looking in the mirror and seeing a woman who is skinnier than I actually am. When I go clothes shopping I've been selecting outfits that won't fit me. When I grab the clothes off the hanger, they look big to me. As I am pulling them on, I will them to fit, because they're huge compared to my body shape so of course they'll fit me. Right? Wrong, they don't. Nothing fits me anymore.

When I look in the mirror I see a smaller person. I am trying to trick myself into being slimmer.

Over the course of the blog, I've written a lot about my weight. I have body issues. I wish I was someone who was comfortable in their skin and just relaxed into a larger size and owned it. I can not. I am fearful of getting bigger. At what point do you give up on yourself? At what point do you admit defeat and stop caring. I am on that knife's edge.

I can almost hear myself saying how I remember when I made the choice to give up. When I made the choice to surrender to my food demons. When I made the choice to be sedentary. When I made the choice to be overweight forever.

I don't want to be that person, but I've been battling this for too long now and don't know if I have the energy to keep fighting. This year I've put on 15 kilos. And each week my goal weight slips further away. I have bursts of going to the gym and eating healthily. Each time I vow it's the start of my new way of life. I vow that I will be a healthier me. Each time I fail within a few weeks.

I've just started buying clothes from the plus-size section. I can't buy clothes from my favourites shops anymore. They don't go up to my size. Now I buy what fits and not so much what I like. Fashion retailers find it hard to comprehend that women of larger sizes still want to be fashion forward. Apparently you lose your right to mix with the fashion elite when you gain weight.

I saw an interview with the divine Dawn French on Seven's Sunday Night program. She's recently lost a huge amount of weight (45 kilos to be precise) and is now slowly putting it back on again. When asked how she'd lost so much weight she said it was through "joyless eating". "I walked my dog a lot and I just did not eat any food that I liked and that's why I've put on two-and-a-half stone because now I've returned to the world of happy eating," she said.

I get her.

There's no compromise for me. I either eat super healthy, small portions and go to bed with a rumble in my belly while keeping up a strict exercise regime or I pile on the pounds. There's no in-between for me. As there's no in-between for many people like me.

When do you decide to give up?

bigwords x

Media Tips For Bloggers - Off The Record

Blogging in Australia is rapidly evolving. Media organisations are increasingly turning to blogs for story ideas and calling on bloggers for their unique opinions. Interview opportunities are vast. 

Soon it could be you. Or perhaps you've already had your taste of media exposure. How'd you go? Was it a success? Were you prepared? Or was it a disaster?

In this new series of blog posts, Media Tips For Bloggers, I will draw on my 15 years experience working in the media and, at times, call on others in the know to provide you with tips and tricks of the trade. Please let me know if there is a topic you'd like covered in the future.

Off The Record: Tips on being interviewed.

1) I am a big believer in embracing all opportunities that come your way as you never know where they may lead you. I am also a firm believer in trusting your gut. Before you agree to an interview, make sure you know exactly what the focus of the story is. Never agree to an interview if you feel uncomfortable or pressured.

2) Always ask if the journalist can send you a list of questions. Same goes for asking for a draft of the story, if you are being interviewed for a newspaper. They will not always agree, but there's no harm in asking.

3) Preparation is key. Think about what the angle of the interview is and tailor your answers accordingly. Do your research. Short, to-the-point, responses are the key. Do not ramble. Less is more. This is particularly relevant if being interviewed for radio and television. Everything needs to be communicated in palatable "grabs" or information filled sentences. Write down a list of the key points you want to communicate and practice your responses. There's no second chances.

4) Nothing is off the record. Never share things with a reporter you do not want to see printed in an article or aired on television or replayed on the radio. No matter how lovely the journalist seems, you can never trust they will do the right thing. It is ok to say: "I'm sorry, but I am not going to answer that question" or "I don't know the answer to that question" or "That's an issue I'd prefer not to talk about".

5) If the interview heads off course and you suddenly get alarm bells, put a stop to it. Be polite, but firm. Let them know that was not what the agreed interview was meant to be about and that you'd rather not continue talking about the topic at this stage. Don't get grumpy or be rude, that will only inflame the situation and make it seem like you have something to hide. Just take back control.

6) Be interesting. It's fine not to share your secrets or talk nastily about others or give away the tricks of your trade, but remember if you say nothing at all, you run the risk of being boring. Be calculated about you talk about. This is where number 3 is really important - preparation is key. Have something to say which will add to the discussion.

7) Always be accessible, on time and professional. Journalists work under tight deadlines and if you are easy to work with, they'll keep you in mind for other stories. Let them know your areas of expertise and   your willingness to be called upon in the future.

8) Shake away your nerves and have fun. If you don't enjoy the experience, don't do it again. Life is too short for doing things you don't enjoy, but it's also too short to not do things that challenge you. The butterflies in your belly, the nerves, the thrill - it's all part of the experience. Embrace it. And remember it is simply a conversation between you and another person, it's not meant to be hard work.

Have you ever been interviewed before? Do you have any tips to add?

bigwords x

Where's The Compassion?

(this is a still photograph. I refuse to put the video on my site)

There's an amateur video doing the rounds, showing a young woman supposedly drunk stumbling all over the place at the Melbourne Cup. She starts lashing out at people and, mainly punching the air, she repeatedly trips flashing her lady region to the crowd. Thanks to some dickhead with a phone, the whole world has now seen it.

I am not going to go on about drinking responsibly. I am not going to discuss claims by the woman that she was drugged, although I will say I was drugged in Spain once and I looked a lot like she did in that vision. I was not punching people though, I was stumble dancing. I was later violently mugged.

What I want to talk about is the reaction of the crowd. When I see a person in trouble, which she quite obviously was, my first reaction would be to get help. I would not get my phone out and film the person. Where were her friends? What's happened to the code of getting shit faced? You know the one that states if your friend is falling all over the place, obviously not in a fit state to be in public, that you at least attempt to call someone to come and get her or you put her in a cab or you sit with her, in a less public place, with a bottle of water.

Where's the fucking compassion? Why is your first thought to grab your phone and post it online? Why is your first thought to laugh and point and jeer? I'm all for owning your behaviour, and her behaviour was abhorrent, but so is being surrounded by a group of drunk men, cheering and screaming at you, while you're in an obviously paralytic or drugged state. What if they were in the same position?

Why is much of the discussion centred on her behaviour and not about the people watching her, who did nothing to step in and guide her to a safe place? Aside from the one man who "gently" pinned her to the ground, before security guards escorted her away.

I have certainly been that drunk before. I know many people who have stumbled over in public, legs spread in the air. Or fallen asleep in a pub's toilet or got into a scuffle. Luckily for me, I've always had someone to step in and get me home safely. And I have spent many hours helping friends and strangers off toilet floors.

The morning after guilt, the memory lapses and the shame is enough to give you a wake up call. Maybe only for a short time, but it definitely impacts on you. And when you're ready to listen to your inner voice you change your drinking habits.

I am lucky to have woken in my bed or on a couch at a friend's house or, at times, in someone else's bed, but I was always safe. I may have behaved questionably, but I was safe.

Only too recently we witnessed a woman stumbling down a street. She did not wake up in a safe place. She did not wake up.

There are arseholes out there; scary, violent arseholes. There are also arseholes out there with camera phones and arseholes who stand on the sidelines and cowardly hurl insults.

At the moment, there's an advertisement on SA television warning young women about irresponsible drinking. It shows a girl riding the porcelain bus in a nightclub. In the commercial, some girls come in and point and laugh at the young woman, who is passed out and covered in vomit. One girl says how she can't wait to tell the people at her work. Another girl nudges her leg with her foot to see if she's awake. Instead of asking if the girl is ok, they comment on how disgusting she is. It offends me on so many levels.

I gather the advertisement is meant to shame people out of getting that drunk. In doing so, it also promotes the pack mentality of point and shame. It promotes the ethos that, it's ok to not only laugh at someone in trouble, it's also ok to walk away. To do nothing. It makes me sad for my girls who may one day find themselves in a similar situation.

I'd like to see an advertisement where the message is if you see someone in distress get help. Never leave them alone. Never walk away. And for fucks sake, never get out your mobile phone and video them at their most vulnerable.

What are your thoughts?

bigwords x

The Most Retweeted Photo Ever

This is the most retweeted photo ever in the history of the whole wide world of Twitter's existence.

I love everything about this photo. The love, the relief, the win. Four more years of the Obama Presidency is a good thing.

This is another photo I love.

Joe Biden you are one funny dude.

I also love this photo.

This is Miss 2 with paper wings, tail and a beak stuck to her hands, bottom and nose with sticky tape. Her sister's thought she'd make a good baby bird. She's rocking it. The joy of freedom.

Yesterday was a good day for the world.

What did you think of Obama's win?

bigwords x

Where Are You LuLu?

I am going to tell you a tale about a lion. A lion loved by a whole class of reception kids in Adelaide. LuLu is her name. She is the grubbiest lion in the universe - covered in snot, food, urine and other things little kids have on their inquisitive fingers.

You see LuLu was the class lion. She was a stuffed lion, not a real one of course, and she went home every night with the Star of the Day. Being Star of the Day is a big honour for the kids. They get their name written on the white board, they get to sit on a special chair and they get to take LuLu home for an adventure.

And that's what LuLu did on the weekend. She went on an adventure with a little girl from Miss 5's class. She went all the way to the Barossa Valley and visited a lovely winery. But like any good day in a winery, LuLu found herself on the toilet floor or under a table or something like that.

Anyway, LuLu was accidentally left behind and caused much distress for the Mum of the little girl who  rang the winery and arranged to make the long drive back to the Barossa to pick her up on her first available day off.  Whatever happened next doesn't really matter, all that's important is when the Mum called to confirm the lion was waiting for her, LuLu was gone.

This is Luca. Luca is the new class lion. I'm told Luca was very hard to find, as surprisingly there are not many stuffed lions these days. Luca is a lot cleaner than LuLu. Luca is lovely, but she's not LuLu.

So, to the people who have LuLu, if by some twist of fate you are reading this blog post, I have a message for you and it's this - PLEASE SEE IT IN YOUR KIND HEART TO GIVE LULU BACK. There is a whole class of kids who miss her very much. There is one in particular, in my house, who misses LuLu very much. She was Star of the Day today and it just wasn't the same without that grimy lion.

Do you know where LuLu is?

bigwords x

On The Drive Home

Some of the best conversations take place in the car. Yesterday's chat between Miss 5 and myself was no exception.

Miss 5: "Girl 1 and I are going to get married, but she says we will have to move to another country and I don't want to do that."

Me: "You don't want to get married to Girl 1 or you don't want to move?"

Miss 5: "I don't want to move and Girl 1 says we aren't allowed to marry in this country, so we will have to move to another country where we can get married."

Me: "That's right, our laws in Australia prevent two girls or two boys getting married. That doesn't seem fair does it? "

Miss 5: "No, it isn't fair because I don't want to have to move away to get married. And now I just don't know what we are going to do?"

Me: "You and Girl 1 should be allowed to get married if you love each other, as too should your friends Boy 1 and Boy 2."

Miss 5: "I know, but Boy 1 is going to marry Girl 3, so he can't marry Boy 2. You can't get married to two people at once. You also can't marry your own brother or sister."

Me: "No, no, you can't because that would be just plain weird."

Silence.

Me: "Anyway honey, I'll do all I can to try and get the laws changed so by the time you're an adult you can marry whoever you want. So, anyone can marry who they love regardless of if it's a boy and boy and a girl and a girl. I don't want you to have to move to another country."

Miss 5: "Ok, because me and Girl 1 will have far too many babies to be moving all over the place. And anyway, just because you're not married doesn't mean you can't have babies. Some people say you can only have babies if you're married. I don't think that's true."

Me: "No, you don't have to be married to have babies and you don't have to want babies if you are married."

Miss 5: "I don't believe that. Why wouldn't you want to have babies?"

And then we got out of the car so I could get her something to eat because when she's not talking, she's eating.

What conversations do you have in the car?

bigwords xx

Activate The Almond

This appeared in the newspaper on the weekend. Celebrity chef Pete Evans gave readers a sneak peek into the meal plan of a super healthy, slightly wanky, obviously wealthy dude with much time on his hands. I say "time on his hands" and "obviously wealthy" because activating your almonds and making sure your veggies are cultured takes time and money (if you buy them from your local organic "gold mine" store). I say "slightly wanky" because I've seen him on the television and to be honest I found him to be just that, "slightly wanky".

I take no offence to what he puts in his mouth. He'd be shocked and surprised to see what's passed my lips over my lifetime, but it's the condescending need to provide far too many details in his pretentious meal plan which made me gag. And seriously, why does the newspaper think we care what he eats? Isn't there some news somewhere to fill its pages?

And anyway, why couldn't he have just said he had a fruit smoothie and a couple of glasses of water for breakfast and what the fuck is alkalised water anyway? And if I hear the words activated and almonds in the same sentence again I am going to vomit in my mouth. What's wrong with straight off the tree almonds? Surely fresh, raw food which hasn't been "activated" is ok. And here's where he really lost me - emu meatballs. I darn well hope those emus were free range. I hope they were fed on an entirely organic vegan diet. And how many points are native animal meatballs in the Weight Watchers plan he is an Ambassador for?

I also think if you're going to go into so much detail then it needs to apply to everything. Those avocados. Were they hand picked by virgins? The cacao nibs. Were they sourced from ethically farmed rain forests? The green tea. Was it locally grown or picked by child labour? His "Day On A Plate" left me with so many questions.

Did he wash it all down with a glass of STFU? Or did the liquorice root tea numb him into submission? Well, clearly not, because he agreed to publicise this obnoxious meal plan.

But this is where I must put my own culinary ignorance aside. This is where I must put aside my own purely shallow view of the man aside. The shellacking he got on the interwebs was pretty harsh. I can't   excuse myself from that behaviour, I couldn't help myself. Culinary wankery makes me lash out. He was a sitting duck. The more I enjoyed the mockery, the more I actually started feeling a little dirty. At some stage during the quick witted twitter and Facebook feeds, I began to feel queasy.

No matter how "slightly wanky" his menu plan and how at odds with the "average Joe", it's his choice to eat those things. It's not really my place to take the piss out of him, even if he put it out there for all to see. Even if the whole concept of cultured vegetables gives me a vision of carrots sitting around in berets reading Tolstoy and listening to Miles Davis.

Social media is quick to judge. The pack mentality can be a little vicious. And I'm not proud of my involvement in that.

This is his response to the criticism.

IGNORANCE is not bliss!
I'm occasionally ridiculed because I choose to eat a nutrient dense diet, and I find it so bizarre as to why people sometimes find my food choice's so offensive? All I know is that I'm well aware of the consequences of eating 'dead' food, and also I'm a father, and I take that privilege very seriously, so for me striving for optimum health whenever I can so that I can be a responsible role model for my daughters, and still be able to surf right up until the end, is the obvious choice for me."

Fair enough. Ignorance is not bliss. I'd be the first to put my hand up to say: "What is dead food?".
But, despite my criticism of your life choices, Pete Evans I apologise. The locally grown, ethically sourced, organic, carob-coated, activated almonds are in the mail.

Are we too quick to judge or did he put himself in the firing line?

bigwords x

Ghouls and Sugar Highs

Halloween got scary pretty early on. What was meant to be a quick visit to our local supermarket to stock up on plastic skeletons and lollies, turned into a tantrum of monumental proportions.

I felt sorry for Miss 4 who, shortly after this photo was taken, put her hands over her ears and started to cry: "This is the worst day ever". I don't think me screaming at the 2yo that she "would never ever go to the shops with me ever again" helped.

But the day did get better. We all rummaged through the dress-up box and got ready for Trick or Treating.

I went as a French cat burglar. This resulted in Miss 5 telling everyone that "my Mum goes into people's houses and steals stuff".

Overall, it was Twiggy who won Halloween.

And yes, he is hung like horse (I wrote that for you honey).

A couple of friends from Miss 5's school came along for the adventure and were particularly excited to visit the scary house which has been decorated Halloween style for a week now.

When the dude opened the door he was very apologetic. You see the decorations had been put up for the party he'd had on Saturday night. He still looked as if he was recovering from the party. The kids did their tricks, told him some jokes and headed down the street to find someone who had some actual chocolate. Then out the back door came the dude running along, holding up a bag of marshmallows. SCORE!

I don't care about where Halloween originated. I don't care that my kids ate lollies for dinner and breakfast. I also don't care that the retailers are "cashing in" - the economy needs all the help it can get. People need all the jobs they can get. And with those jobs they can use their money for bad and good. What goes around comes around.

What I do care about is - our children getting out in the community and meeting their neighbours, sharing an experience with those around them, learning that not all strangers are bad, learning that there's a lot of good in the world. There were many ghosts and ghouls walking the streets who all had huge smiles on their faces. And there were people who spend many nights alone who were so happy to get some visitors. And only good can come from that.

Halloween is lot more than just lollies and commercialism. It's about connecting with the people on your street. And I for one, am already thinking of a costume to outdo my husband next year.
This one's on sale?

Did you Trick or Treat last night?

bigwords x

It Takes A Village - Wanna Be Yummy Mummie

It takes a village to raise a child so I've been asking bloggers and friends to write a letter to my girls. Each week I publish a different letter. If you're interested in contributing, please email me at: biancawordley@hotmail.com

This week's letter is from Jo Hartley from the blog Wanna Be Yummy Mummie. She's been so patient with me and I admire her persistence. One day we'll meet over a glass or two of bubbles!

Dear Girls

At the time of my writing this letter, your world is really quite a small and sheltered place.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean that in a patronising way, but simply in a ‘you are still so young and have so much of the world to discover yet’ kind of way. 

Your world is at present a cocoon in which you are protected, surrounded by familiar things, familiar people and familiar routine.  You are safe and warm in your cocoon and, whilst you may well be starting to become more aware that there is another world outside your shell, it will be a while yet before you crack out, stretch your wings and fly. 

And therein lies my advice to you and that is purely and simply this...one day you simply must fly!  The world is a huge place and there are so many wonderful places to go, things to see and people to meet. 

Therefore, with no further ado, I reveal to you a list of ‘Must Do’s’ that I hope you will one day tuck in your backpack as your set off on your adventures.

Eat frogs legs in France – sure, it sounds gross right? But, trust me, it all tastes like chicken anyhow


Ice skate in New York with a loved one – warm? No! Romantic? Yes!

Island hop your way round Greece – drink a gallon of Ouzo just for the hell of it!

Bungee jump in New Zealand – wow! What a thrill....or, at least, so I hear!

Ride the Ferris Wheel at Santa Monica Boulevard – preferably before eating an American sized hotdog and drinking a bucket of coke!

Gamble in Las Vegas – just a little money mind......you can NEVER truly win!

Go see lions, tigers and elephants in their natural environment in Africa – remember to take a spare change of pants for those extra ‘up close’ experiences with the lions!

Go party all night...and all day in Ibiza or Bali.

Take a cooking class in Thailand – take away will never taste the same again!

Swim with dolphins in Mexico.

Go to London and make like a Queen with high tea at the Ritz and a little shopping at Harrods.

And last but not least, because the things closest to home shouldn’t be completely overlooked of course;

Hire a convertible and feel the wind in your hair (and eyes and mouth) as you drive the Great Ocean Road.


Climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge – scary, but a great butt work out – not to mention the views of course!


Drink your way round Margaret River – all with the purposes of finding your favourite wine


Sleep under the stars at Ayers Rock.

Most of all....enjoy! 

Jo x

Jo is a 30-something wannabe yummy Mummy living in Sydney with her husband, 2 dogs (1 neurotic, 1 normal), a cat and a toddler.  Her blog is the creative outlet for her remaining braincells.  In her free time (hahahah)….Jo enjoys eating chocolate, thinking about dieting, eating ice-cream, pondering over gym memberships and drinking alcohol!