Thursday, March 31, 2011

Fussy To Fantastic - Giveaway

Now I know you've all gone and bought your HealthyChart already, but for those of you who are still having a little bit of trouble getting your kids to eat the right food (or any food for that matter) then keep reading.

I've got four tickets to the fabulous "Mealtime Tips and Tricks: Turning Fussy in to Fantastic" seminar conducted by Caroline Radford and Caroline McMahon of Caroline's Angels.

The session will help you with whatever step of the food-flinging journey you're up to; so if you've got a little one who is just starting solids or a toddler who refuses to eat anything green then this is the one for you.

As with all the UWA Extension Baby Talk seminars it's on at UWA Claremont (Western Australia) and will be held on Sunday, April 10th from 10am-12pm and I'll be there too, remembering what it was like to go to uni all those years ago and lamenting that I don't get a mortar board on completion of the class.

To get your hands on one of these tickets valued at $49 all you have to do is follow Where’s My Glow? (but you do already, right?) and leave a comment below telling me what food you refuse to eat (my answer would be: anything that's gone cold, though I'm very used to it by now).

Then pop on over to UWA Extension and check out all the other cool seminars they’ve got going on in the Autumn brochure. You can even stalk them a little bit harder on Facebook and Twitter too.

TAC: Entry is open to anyone but the seminar is in Perth so unless you have a Learjet, you might wanna be a local. Entries close at 7pm AWST on Sunday 3rd of April and the winners chosen using a random number generator. Make sure you sign in to Disqus with a valid email address so that you can be contacted when you win – it will not be visible to anyone else but me and then shared with UWA Extension who will email your ticket to you.The prize is provided by UWA Extension and is not redeemable for cash but may be transferred to another person if you cannot attend. By entering you acknowledge that you have understood these Ts & Cs.

Glowless rocked the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Wednesday, March 30, 2011


I have always thought when Hollywood stars walk the red carpet at an awards ceremony and say "Oh, it's just an honour to be nominated!" that they are talking out their asses. I don't believe anything they say because, well you know, they're actors.

Well I'm eating my words here; I believe them now.

I've been nominated, along with 22 other fabulous women, for the Aussie Mummy Blogger with the X-Factor Award, graciously hosted by Home Loan Finder.

Wow. OMG. Plus a little bit of Squee! And if you haven't been doing your pelvic floor exercises, a little bit of wee too. Lovely.

I'm considered worthy of being in a group with these women? Are you freakin' kidding me?! That's INSANE!

What women? These women:

We are soooo hawt!

The coolest thing is that for once, I didn't actually nominate myself, so that means SOMEONE ELSE thinks I'm not completely annoying and may, in fact, have redeeming qualities. There is hope for me yet!

It's an absolute honour to be nominated! The top 23 and I'm one of them? I'm still freaking out.

So whilst it's an honour and all that, I would *ahem* still like your votes. Please?

To vote you can go here and click Like and Tweet at the top of the page - the groovy gal with the highest number in two weeks time wins an iPad. A freakin' iPad, people!

Tricky's been getting in to my makeup!
So you go off and vote for your faves while I go off and ring my mum!
Glowless rocked the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

He Did What!? Wednesday - By Three Li'l Princesses

He Did What!? Wednesday
The Day My Hubby Lost It- Guest post by Three Li'l Princesses

Hubby Julian may not know one end of a hammer from the other, but when it comes to tech gadgets he’s totally clued (or, is that glued?).

Not long after getting his first iPhone, hubby, three-year-old Princess Ella and his inseparable iPhone decided to go to the pool.

No more than five minutes later, he’s running back in the door with arms flapping like Priscilla in Queen of the Desert.

``I can’t find my iPhone,’’ he says in a panic.

``Where did you have it last?’’ I ask, sighing. Yes, it’s a well-worn question.

``I was hurrying to get Ella into the car and ... I don’t know,’’ he said.

He bows his head: ``I think I left it on the roof of the car.’’

Sadly, this isn’t the first time he’s put a phone on the car roof and drove off with it. But I don’t utter a word.

Instead of the pool, his afternoon was spent retracing his steps, calling the police and putting in a newspaper advert, all to no avail.

He even tried to download the Find My Phone app from iTunes, until he realised he needed the actual phone first.

Hmmm, slight problem there.

A tear welled in his eye.

The last time my Magpie-loving hubby cried was Collingwood’s second attempt at wining the grand final last year.

Not because of the grand final, but because at half time I rushed in to announce: ``I’ve just had my first contraction. The baby’s coming...’’

Hubby claimed it wasn’t the phone he was upset about, but more the video and photo memories of his two girls.

For two days he moped around the house, like a child who’s lost their extremely loud play telephone (``Mum, are you sure you haven’t seen it?’’).

Then a call came. Council worker Shaun had picked it up two days ago and only just read the newspaper ad.

Ah, happy ending.

Well, not quite.

You see, a few days later, when we were packing kids into the car, he sat his Oakley sunglasses on the car roof and ...

Well, that’s another story.

Read his version of events at Three Li’l Princesses’ The Shed.

___ . . . ___ . . . ___ 

Kellie is a journalist, a mother of two and a new mummy blogger! Her blog, Three Li’l Princesses, is where highly strung parents are sent for time out. 

“Just endured the fourth all-out, screaming, kicking tantrum for the day (yours, not the kids)? Then stop. Breathe. Step inside Three Li’l Princesses’ tranquil palace.”

She describes it as a virtual Mums’ Group where you can go to share a laugh, shed a tear, be inspired or simply recharge your batteries. She hangs out on Twitter and Facebook when she needs a change of scenery.

Next Week: My Life In Mono reminds us that BBQ tongs aren't just for BBQs

Send your He Did What!? submission to 
Glowless rocked the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

The Ugly Truth

I've had a lot of friends have babies recently. And a lot of friends of friends. Through the power of Facebook you can see those babies in all their newborn glory within a few minutes of popping out.

The comments below the pics are always along the lines of "Congratulations she's beautiful!" "He's adorable!" and "OMG soooo cute!".

The thing about these comments is that the person has had time to filter what they really think before saying something. That luxury doesn't exist when you go to visit them at the hospital or at their home. So I have been known to prepare myself with some good lines, just in case, ya know?

Newborns tend to not be the most attractive creatures. Sometimes it has to do with their mode of delivery (be it via the escape shoot or the emergency hatch), and sometimes because Mother Nature can be a bitch with a dark sense of humour.

Every mother and father think their child is the most wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous creature to ever scream it's lungs out. It's hard wired. A lot of the time the extended family and friends think it too. Sometimes our perception of the parents influences our view of the child. A case of either rose coloured or shit-stained glasses.

Before Tricks was born I wondered if he'd be fabbo or fuggo. I even blogged my thoughts, in one of my early loooong paragraph posts with no pictures and actual research behind it. A friend remembered it when Tricky was born and wrote "Congrats, you didn't get a fuggo". Best.Compliment.Ever.

To make it fair, here's one of Tricky's more fuggo photos from when he was a newborn. I think he looks like a cross eyed Shar Pei - you know the dogs that don't fit their skin? Yeah, I just called my son a dog. I used to call him my Shar Pei-by until he grew in to those folds on his forehead. Be sure to write that on my Mother of the Year nomination, won't you?

One day old Shar Pei-by
As usual I put it out to Twitter and the suggestions included:
A TV catchphrase - "Breathtaking" - @Alexricia (quoting Seinfeld)
Pointing out the cute - "How cute are her little toes?!" - @MeganBlandford
Sticking to the facts - "She's so alert!" - @KerriSackville
Blatant lying to save face - "Cuuuuuuttttteeee" - @x0xJessikah
Size matters - "She's so big!" - @Glowless (yeah, that's me)
Genetic Questions - "Oh my gosh *pause* who does she look like?" @VaughnsMum

What do you do when faced with a less than gorgeous bub? 
Glowless rocked the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Monday, March 28, 2011

Quite a Spectacle

Tonight I got something caught in my contact lenses and ended up with tears streaming out of one, bright red eye. It looked like half my face was either terribly upset or stoned. So the contacts were whipped out (kinda hard when it hurts to open your eyes) and replaced by my glasses.

I don't often where my glasses, even though I love them to bits. Maybe I should wear them more since they're so awesome.

Imagine them with clear lenses, OK?
I totally love that chunky, plakky frames are in fashion. My eyes are so bad that my lenses look like coke bottle bottoms, so some of the dainty wire rims just can't handle the weight. But these babies? These are chuck-a-licious.

Yup, that there is leopard print on the arms. But as far as I'm aware, no animals were harmed in their production so you can call of the PETA intervention.

My whole family wears glasses/contacts. Poor eyesight is just one of the many genetic gifts I was blessed with along with a dose of crazy.

Aunty Penny has worn glasses from age two. So when I reached age three, even though I hadn't been showing signs of poor vision yet, it was decided that I should get tested for the same eye muscle weakness that affects the family... but there was a slight problem.

I flat out refused to open my eyes for the test.

Not actually me, but might as well be

My Mum describes it as one of the most embarrassing moments of her life, but when it's not your kid, it's kinda funny, right?. Karma will get me for laughing at this.

What I found out only recently was that because I stood there, eyes screwed shut, refusing the test, they had to do it another way. My poor Mother had to take me across the city on two buses to Fremantle Hospital where I was anesthetized!

Yep, a three year old knocked out, put under, drugged up for a freakin' eye test!

Aaaaaand what was the result of said eye test? My eyes were fine. I didn't need glasses then. All that effort for nothing (sorry, Mama!).

I didn't get my first pair of glasses until I was 11. I hated them. Actually hate is not strong enough. I loathed them. Detested them. I ordered a pair of brown plastic frames that were hideous but were the nicest ones in the column I was allowed to choose from - none of the in-fashion wire rims were in our budget. But instead of the ugly brown ones, they sent two pairs of the ugly pink ones Aunty Penny chose...

We had matching glasses. Vomit. I am forever scarred.

Do you wear contacts or glasses? Love 'em or hate 'em?

Glowless rocked the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to
HealthyChart and Baby Goes Retro and Simply Colors

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Would The Real Glowless Please Stand Up

Before last weekend I could count on one hand the number of people (other than friends and family) who knew the person behind the blog. Who knew my name. Who knew Map Guy and Tricky's names and what we looked like.

Now, there are what can only be described as lots, and for reasons I'm yet to fully understand, it scares the shit outta me.

I'm not so completely full of myself that I think anyone I met even noticed my name tag or could recall my name five seconds after meeting me (to the vast majority I'm still nameless) and I'm not so vain to think that anyone besides me actually gives a shit.

So why am I still struggling? I should feel liberated, shouldn't I?

This blog was my cocoon. I was safe inside here; growing; developing. In to what, I'm not sure. The word 'writer' gets bandied about quite a bit on the Blogosphere but I'm definitely not one of those or I could have thought of something a little more descriptive than 'lots'.

Being anonymous meant there was little chance of any repercussions. If no one knew me, I couldn't get hurt. I could divulge my deepest secrets and it wouldn't matter.

I was Glowless; a persona; a character. Sure the real me was there, she came out in glimpses; but she was hidden under many layers like a Bloggy Babushka.
As Glowless I stood at the top of my Blog mountain, shouted "I'm a nutter" and was applauded for helping to break down the stigma of mental illness. Now that I'm 'out' though, I'm afraid to write. I'm shying away; censoring myself. I'm scared to say what is really there.

My friends, who are already familiar with the many skeletons in my closet, have stood by me in spite of them. Maybe because of them. But the newer friends? The ones that don't know my sordid past? Will they run if they see it here? The real me?

If they know how broken I really am, surely they will leave; relegate me to the 'Too Hard' basket and be on their merry way, perhaps looking back once to cast a pitying glance at the chaos that is my life and shake their head in disgust at the girl who can't get her shit together.

I know that people who leave when it gets hard aren't real friends. Part of me wants to be the bigger person; let them walk away. Even give them the finger and say good riddance. But there is that other part of me, the part that I wish wasn't there; that little corner of my soul that still yearns to be accepted. To be liked.

I have the words "be authentic" ringing in my ears. But how authentic? Where is the line between moderation and censoring? Between privacy and secrecy?

This shit just got real and I have no idea what to do.

Glowless rocked the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Friday, March 25, 2011

FlogYoBlog Friday - The Funk Edition

No not this funk:

This funk:

Stole this pic from the lovely Fi from Calm Blue Ocean
The post-AusBlogCon funk.
My bags remain half unpacked, sitting on the kitchen floor where they landed straight off the flight. The only things that I've taken out are the smelly things, my makeup bag and the Lindt chocolate; you know, the important stuff.

I had the exact same feeling going back to work after my honeymoon. Everything had been geared toward this one massive event and then it was over. I was left with a massive void. What now?

At least after a honeymoon you have the whole making babies thing to fall back on...

But what is there post AusBlogCon? Twitter? It's a lowly substitute for horizontal tango, no matter what they say.

Wow, hear that? That's an awkward silence because I mentioned sex and Twitter in the same sentence. There is only one way to fix this. Let's Flog.

The Rules
(As stolen from Lori, thus making Baby Jesus cry... sorry)
  1. Follow Where's My Glow? 
  2. Bow down at the alter of Mummy Time; Blog-goddess, all round groovy gal and creator of FYBF
  3. Grab the FYBF button and post it on your sidebar or in the post you're linking up
  4. Link in your favourite/best post from the week
  5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger (Be nice and spread the comment love)
  6. The list will be open for linkyers on Fridays (and for the foreigners Friday as well)
  7. A new and fresh linky list will open every Friday. And you will have to link up AGAIN. The previous link list does not carry over to the following week
  8. Because I live in Dullsville Perth the list will open around 7am AWST - I'm not getting up at 5am and the last time I scheduled a post it didn't work


After you've spread the comment love to your fellow Floggers, check out this list of AusBlogCon blog posts! I'll be reading them all to relive the entire weekend, then I'll go and cry in the corner
Glowless rocked the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

He Did What!? Wednesday - By Life With A Fussy Eater

Mr Fussy is Banned Not Welcome in the Kitchen

My natural instinct is to dislike anything that requires me to work more. No, I am not lazy. I just cannot stand having to clean up after someone else when I am busy cleaning up after myself all day long.

For this reason, I have made it very clear to Mr Fussy that he is not welcomed in my kitchen.

Mr Fussy renovated our 111 year old (tiny) farm house before we were married. It was actually just before he proposed. So whenever he consulted my opinion on the renovations, I could only say, “Well, if it were my house then I would do...” I now know that his timing was all a cunning plan to keep costs down.

The pre-renovated kitchen was awful. Worse was the Auschwitz style bathroom, but the kitchen had benches that came up to my thighs (and I am not a tall person), mustard paint, a baptismal font-sized sink and one peep through window. Had I known that this would be my kitchen one day, an entire wall would have been knocked out and the key word would have been “expansion”.

But as it is, I ended up with a few more windows, off-white cupboards, and normal height benches. It is, however, still a small kitchen. There is approximately 15 times more surface space in the farm workshop than there is in my kitchen (I calculated this in an effort to argue the need for a Thermomix. It didn’t work.). So I do not like it when someone else is in my limited space.

More than that, I do not like it when someone comes in and uses my kitchen when I am not looking. It’s not that I am a control freak, but there is a basic element of order that must be maintained in a small space to keep it running efficiently.

When Mr Fussy uses my kitchen ... well, let’s just say, it isn’t pretty. If you asked him, he would say that he needs only one pan to cook in. A wok.

He prides himself on being able as a bachelor to have cooked any number of dishes in a wok. Penne in a wok, spaghetti in a wok, and of course a stir fry in a wok.

Now whether he feels that he should expand his repertoire, or that there are just a lot more pans to choose from, he definitely uses more than a wok when he’s in my kitchen.

I won’t even comment on the quality of the dishes he serves up. I’m not one for chunks of food and an over abundance of chilli. But what really makes my stomach turn is the end result in my kitchen.
This is not my actual kitchen, but you get the picture
If he can’t cram something in to the dishwasher (and he simply refuses to accept that some items do not go in the dishwasher), then he rinses it and leaves it on the bench. That was rinsed, not washed. Because obviously we have a house maid who will come in to do it later....

It is for this reason that I am diligent about never leaving him to cook his own meal. If I have to go out at night, I leave him a meal on a plate. If he works late and comes home after we’ve all eaten, I leave him a meal on a plate. Anyone looking in would think I am a doting housewife. Believe me I am not. I am just preserving my sanity.

If only I had suggested a door be put on the kitchen, then I could lock it.
___ . . . ___ . . . ___

The Fussy Eater's Mum is the fabulous woman behind Life With A Fussy Eater. If you've been playing along at home you'd realize that that makes her the creator of HealthyChart and therefore my fabulous AusBlogCon title sponsor!

She moved all the way from New York City to the Fussy Farm in rural WA where she fell in luuuurve and never looked back. She lives on the land, amongst the sheep, with Mr Fussy and The Darlings (pictured with her on the right - is that not the most photogenic family ever?).

She blogs about food & nutrition, being an Uber Mum (yes, she says Mum not Mom - she's fully Ausmerican now), the original Fussy Eater and how awesome it is to be my sponsor. You can tell her I'm the best Sponsorette in town by chatting to her on Twitter - she's still new on there so be gentle.

Next week: A missing gadget or missing memories from Three Lil' Princesses' 

Send your He Did What!? submissions to
Meet Glowless at the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Thumper Doesn't Live Here Anymore

One of the points discussed at the conference was reviews and if you should give a negative review or not. I was one of the people who put their hand up and admitted I feel obliged to give a good review when a company gives me free things.

I have never lied in a review - but I've always tried to mention the positive things and leave out or minimize the negative in an effort to live by the Thumper Rule - If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.

It was most evident when my series of four sponsored posts about a handheld tablet device I was given became a series of two - I could find nothing positive to say at all, and the two posts I did do were actually reviewing software on it (created by another company) not the device itself, as part of the 'challenges' set by the product provider. I wonder if they knew how crap it was and that's why they got me to review the software?

The Thumper Rule is something I try to live by in life too. And whilst it can be beneficial (not hurting someone's feelings) sometimes it means I get walked over; I don't stand up for myself. I'm passive. A door mat.

I won't send back a meal that was cooked wrong for fear of hurting the Chef's feelings or provoking a Ramsay-esque rant that some poor kitchen hand has to take the brunt of... yes, that is the warped way my mind thinks when I get dodgy service or buy a faulty product.

It has to stop. Both in real life and on here.

Because honestly, if there is no balance in my reviews, how can I expect you to believe me when I do say I like something?

So Thumper has been given his marching orders. He is not welcome here any longer.

Image Modified from Here
Don't panic, I'm not about to start bitching and moaning about every little thing, but if a product does something it shouldn't (like turn on 30 application in the background that suck power) then I'm going to point it out. Likewise, if it doesn't do something it's meant to, it'll get mentioned.

From now on there will balance in the force, young Padawan.

Removing Thumper from my life in general may take a little longer... finding my assertive voice (and not just taking the easy passive-aggressive way out) is a much harder challenge, but I'm working on it.

Are you a door mat? Or do you stand up for yourself? Does it change depending on what circumstance you're in?
Glowless rocked the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Monday, March 21, 2011

How Glowless got her Glow back

Thanks to 4 hours sleep in the previous two days, when I got to Sydney I was tired, but ready to party.
Glow-O-Meter: 1/10 Acheieved with makeup and caffeine

The pre-conference shenanigans blew me away. I was lucky enough to attend the GlaxoSmithKline drinks at the Arthouse Hotel where I got to meet the wonderful Krisitn of Wanderlust and hear her talk about her amazing journey. That crew really knows how to put on a party; not only were there cocktails and canap├ęs but there were two masseuses and a reflexologist pampering us from head to toe and it got the Glow-o-Meter to finally register something for the first time since Tricky was born. It would have flickered up a little higher if the Ribena jelly we got to try was actually Ribena jelly vodka shots… but we can’t have everything, can we?
Glow-O-Meter: 7/10 Thanks to champagne and reflexology

Then it was off to the Nuffnang drinks at the SOHO bar. There was a giant bed… I (and some others- I can’t remember who but I think it was SawHole?) jumped on it and smiled for the cameras like one of the Price is Right models. Yes it sounds like I was drunk but I actually wasn’t! I was definitely tipsy though, enough to get cranky at the taxi driver who asked Liz from Mumstrosity and I where the hotel was when he had a GPS (I'm a tourist, how should I know?!)
Glow-O-Meter: 7/10 Thanks to cocktails and the help of Glow Stick Bracelet

The next morning, it was time to get our conference groove on. My lanyard had my real name on it – Brenda had checked beforehand if it was OK and I said of course it was… but then when I got there it felt weird. It was completely foreign and I had a small panic attack but somehow resisted the urge to cross out my name. In my head I had to keep reminding myself that everyone else was just as nervous as I was. It would be fine as long as I didn’t throw up on anyone.
Glow-O-Meter: 2/10 Thanks to butterflies and time zones

I got to meet my Bloggy Idols - the ones I have followed from the beginning. And just like when you meet one of your school teachers, I found it hard to call them by their first names… so I referred to them, in true pre-schooler style as Miss Tina and Miss Brenda. I’m pretty sure they both rolled their eyes at me. Of course everyone called Mrs Woog ‘Mrs Woog’ so I had to show her I thought she was awesome in another way. Because nothing says ‘I love you’ like tweeting funny photos, I broadcast a pic of Mrs Woog's breasts being motorboated by 4 month old Bear (gorgeous bub of the beautiful Louisa from Everything is Edible).
Glow-O-Meter: 8/10 Thanks to major groping of Bloggy Idols

The panels were great and the Twitter conversations going on at the same time had me in stitches. I packed tissues in my bag, expecting to turn in to a ball of snot during My Blog, My Story but managed to somehow keep it together enough so that I only required mild movie-like dabbing of the eyes. Hearing the amazing stories from these people, listening to their voices and not just reading it, was intense. Their strength inspires me. It was hard not to storm the stage to embrace them (and if you read my 50 things list you'd know I’m not a huggy person), so instead I waited to the end when I could jump to my feet and applaud like a lunatic.
Glow-O-Meter: 8/10 Thanks to the massive Bloggy love-in

A quick costume change and it was time for dinner and dancing. I was at the Naughty Table. There is one at every dinner. The Naughty Table is full of the people who just click with each other and as a result spend almost the entire time squealing with laughter and taking inappropriate photos. It was awesome. My Naughty Table peeps were Bronnie from Maid In Australia, Emma from Mind Your Mum, Sarah from Just Me, Lori from Random Rambling of a SAHM, Holly from Good Golly Miss Holly, Fi from Calm Blue Ocean, SawHole from Woogsworld and the two Davids from Nuffnang.
I danced so much my feet are still sore – Holly even taught me how to Nutbush!
Glow-O-Meter: Off the f@#king scale thanks to EVERYONE!

Before the champagne:
 After the champagne:

My only complaint would be that it was over so quickly. Well that and I had to buy an extra bag to take home my swag bag goodies... Oh wait, that’s not a complaint.

So there you have it. I have my Glow back thanks to the amazing Bloggers at the inaugural Aussie Bloggers Conference. I'll still be 'Glowless' though; even the people who learned my name this weekend promptly forgot it and called me Glowless the entire time - proof being that a fellow blogger who shall remain nameless thought "Who the hell is this chick?" when I friend requested her on Facebook today. She looked at the photos and thought "She's friends with Glowless so I'll add her". Love it.

Did you have a good weekend? Have you been at a Naughty Table?

*I don’t have a camera, these images were stolen from Fi, Holly and Sarah. If you've got a photo of me can you send it to pretty please?
Glowless rocked the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Friday, March 18, 2011

FlogYoBlog Friday - AusBlogCon Edition

Welcome to the super fabulous AusBlogCon edition of FlogYoBlog Friday! There will be much woo-ing and squeeeeee-ing this weekend!

If you haven't already, then check out the five amazing women behind the conference, Brenda, Veronica, Nicole, Tina and Karen - without them, none of us would be here.

And I wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for my sponsors. My title sponsor; HealthyChart, and my other sponsors; Baby Goes Retro, Simply Colors and Rock-A-Bye Baby Equipment Hire. Plus a special mention to the two lovely women who donated back when I first thought about asking for sponsors, Tat from Mum In Search, and Aunty Penny.

I also have to thank my Mama who was going to be here with me, looking after Tricky so that I could get drunk network at the dinner. She had to stay home to look after my Dad, so Map Guy has taken her place, and we're gonna have a little impromptu family holiday - one in which he doesn't see me cos I'm out with my Bloggy pals and he catches up with mates - sounds like a win win situation to me.

The "award speech wind up music" is well and truly playing so without further ado, let's Flog!

The Rules
(As stolen from Lori, thus making Baby Jesus cry... sorry)
  1. Follow Where's My Glow? 
  2. Bow down at the alter of Mummy Time; Blog-goddess, all round groovy gal and creator of FYBF
  3. Grab the FYBF button and post it on your sidebar or in the post you're linking up
  4. Link in your favourite/best post from the week
  5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger (Be nice and spread the comment love)
  6. The list will be open for linkyers on Fridays (and for the foreigners Friday as well)
  7. A new and fresh linky list will open every Friday. And you will have to link up AGAIN. The previous link list does not carry over to the following week
  8. Because I live in Dullsville Perth the list will open around 7am AWST - I'm not getting up at 5am and the last time I scheduled a post it didn't work


get the InLinkz code

P.S. I normally read all the linked posts by Monday but it might take me a bit longer this week - I doubt I'll even start before Monday this week, but I'll get there, I promise!
Meet Glowless at the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Losing My Crunch

This time tomorrow I will be on a plane to Sydney and whilst Tricky is a seasoned car-traveler, with multiple trips to Albany under his size 0 belt (yeah, he's such a Hollywood starlet, obsessing about being a size 0), this will be his first time on an aircraft. To keep the suitcases to a number that doesn't require porters I've made some sacrifices - I'm leaving my Crunch at home.

I'm taking the cheats way out by using disposable nappies for the weekend. My inner 'Crunchy Mama' is getting twitchy that I will be contributing so much non-biodegradable waste to the planet just so that I don't have to spend my nights washing nappies and hoping they'll dry in the cool air of a climate controlled hotel room.The fact that I could spend that time doing something else, like having a cocktail with some Bloggy Galpals may also have influenced this decision.

And if that’s not bad enough I’m also having a major mother-guilt moment in regards to the Trickster’s meals. I normally cook all of Tricky’s meals and I can count the number of times he’s had commercial baby food on two hands.

Drug-free birth, breastfeeding, baby wearing, co-sleeping, home cooked baby food and cloth nappies. I’m a homebirth and a daisy chain away from being declared a freakin’ hippy like the gorgeous Sarah at Dear Baby G!*

I don’t know why I have such a problem with it (can somebody say 'Control Issues'?). It’s not gonna kill him to eat commercial baby food (he actually eats adult food now just cut up small but that’s beside the point). Babies all over the world thrive on the stuff!

He’ll need three massive meals a day and because I’d like to delay his introduction to Maccas a little longer I’m worried the only thing I’ll be able to get him is a sandwich which will no doubt cost me $16.50 because it has fancy organic lettuce. My teeny budget won’t stretch that far so I’m seriously contemplating ferreting away extra food from the breakfast buffet Kath & Kim style.

Don’t judge me, people, but most of all, if you see me at breakfast… don’t dob on me. K?

*Sarah calls herself a 'Freakin' Hippy' so if you're thinking "Hrm, Glowless, you don't normally say nasty things" then relax, it's not nasty and she was fine with me saying it - I checked first!
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Wednesday, March 16, 2011

When She Loved Me

This weekend my Inlaws are coming to housesit. Every time they come I go in to a mad panic because even after all these years I’m still trying to impress them – I don’t know why, I’m pretty sure they like me, I gave them an awesome grandbaby after all. So a massive clean out was ordered. With that, Operation Furiously Unclutter and Clean the Kitchen (acronym, anyone?) commenced at Casa de Glow.

As part of the Operation, Map Guy and I decided it was time to donate some of our stuffed toys.

I was never a big fan of stuffed toys when I was a kid – I was a Barbie Girl (life in plastic, it’s fantastic) through and through so never really saw the point in them. You couldn’t dress them up, you couldn’t plait their hair, bor-ring.

Fast forward to my late teens and early twenties when my mental health was rapidly declining; Out of nowhere came the desire to cuddle a teddy bear. Call it a need for nurturing, call it regression, call it pathetic. But it was what it was and for a few years AS AN ADULT I found much comfort in my little blue bear, Sullivan. Why was he blue? Well, because I was too.

After those few traumatic years I grew stronger and I moved on from Sulli. But he never left; he just migrated to the bookshelf to watch over me. I think he may have even given the “evil teddy eye” to Olli, the new bear in town, who I cuddled every night of my pregnancy (the perfect bump pillow).

So when the time came today to part with Sulli, I couldn’t just chuck him in the garbage bag, it seemed so wrong. I had to cuddle him; kiss him; say thankyou and finally, say goodbye.

I then proceeded to wail like a banshee.

I cried so hard over a silly stuffed bear who was always losing fluff no matter how many times I mended him. A silly bear who has a half missing mouth because I used to twirl the cotton of his sewn-on smile. A silly bear who could barely sit up any more because years of teary cuddles had compacted all his stuffing. A silly bear who, for a time, was my friend.

I did for a minute consider taking him out of the bag and putting him back on the shelf, but the time had come for us to part ways. There is, after all, no worse fate for a toy than to sit on a shelf or in a box not being played with. Toy Story and Sarah McLaughlin taught me that.

Sulli has started a new chapter in his life now at the local Good Samaritans store. My hope is that he will bring joy to someone else. That someone will find him and take him home, and love him just as much as I did. As much as I do.

And I will start a new chapter of my life, too… right after watching this and crying some more.

Do you have any toys that you’re emotionally attached to? Or is it just me who projects characteristics on to inanimate objects?

Meet Glowless at the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

He Did What!? Wednesday - Happy Solo

Stupidest Sickie Excuse Ever? I haz it. 

This, dear reader, is an Ex File.
Some people are just full of shit. My ex partner has the ‘lie’ gene, expressed prominently.

Our whirlwind teenage romance culminated in playing house with a babe in arms by the time I was 17. Don’t Judge Me!

Two months after the birth of said lovechild, ex was in desperate need of a ‘mental health day’. Fair enough right? I thought so.

He made the call to work and they obliged.

Later in the day I asked what his employers had said about him taking the day off. I knew the boss and secretary personally and was duly appreciative of their understanding.

I was perplexed when he replied that they were ‘heaps worried’. (Oh, the descriptive language of teenagers’)

Worried about what? Us being exhausted?

Oh crap, now I needed details:

‘What did you tell them?’

‘I just said you were sick’, he replied.

‘Sick how, exactly?’

‘Had to go to the hospital’, he replied.

‘Um tell me why I am apparently at the hospital?’

I was getting agitated by this point.

He sighed, his eyes went all shifty in a way that never bodes well. He knew I was going to keep up the interrogation, so he spilled the proverbial beans.

‘I said something’s gone wrong and you’re back in hospital. They asked what was wrong and I wasn’t sure what to say (think bullshitting deer caught in bullshit detecting headlights). So I told them your cesarean scar needed re-stapling, or something’…

W T F ?

I was both astonished to discover this little health problem of mine, and ‘heaps worried’ about me too!

2 months after surgery and the scar has suddenly bust open?

The humiliation was epic.

And so I had my first memorable experience of just what happens when someone with the lie gene simultaneously has spades of ‘the stupid’.

Armed with this information, and a series of similar Ex Files as large as the FBIs’ database, I of course made a swift exit from the marriage. (If swift is interpreted as 14 more years and 2 more children later. Yea I’m so decisive.) Hence my Happy Solo Blog . Hence especially, the Happy in the Solo!)

So dear reader, have you heard a sickie excuse – or given one, that trumps my ex partners?

I’mma predict no… But feel free to prove me wrong… please?
___ . . . ___ . . . ___

Miss Angela Solo is a mama of three gorgeous girls and is relatively new to the Blogosphere, starting Happy Solo in January this year.

Whilst she has been away for a while, she's back in her home state of WA, kicking back and enjoying life as a Solo Mum (but I bet you guessed that from her blog title, right?).

She explores the hard stuff: Grief, poverty, depression and relationship breakdowns because she’s "been there, done that" but then likes to perk it up a bit with the "happies".

Next week: The Fussy Eater's Mum rules the kitchen

Send your He Did What!? submissions to
Meet Glowless at the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

Monday, March 14, 2011

50 Glowing Facts

A while back the blogosphere went a little crazy with fifty things lists. I wrote one because I’m a bandwagon jumper-on-er-er. Plus memes are awesome if you have Bloggers Block.

I forgot about it filed it away safely in my drafts folder where it sat maturing like a fine wine or a particularly smelly cheese.

I’ve decided to air it out in preparation for that conference thing.
  1. I used to have a pack-a-day smoking habit
  2. Sometimes when I’m stressed or drinking (or both) I still crave one
  3. 3 is my favourite number
  4. I can only watch scary movies during the day in a well lit room
  5. I’m a Holden girl but drive a Ford
  6. I have a chronic pain condition (I’ll tell ya about it one day when I’m feeling sorry for myself) and get to have an ACROD parking permit
  7. I like my Vegemite kept in the cupboard, not the fridge
  8. I know all the lines from The Princess Bride, Drop Dead Fred, Super Troopers, The Blues Brothers and more
  9. I swear like a trooper – a particularly foul mouthed one
  10. Kissy, huggy people make me nervous but I’m workin’ on it and I’m ready to be hugged to death at AusBlogCon
  11. I wore braces in highschool and actually liked them
  12. I was a ballkid at The Hopman Cup for five years and once got hit in the leg by a Mark Philippousis serve – it left a bruise
  13. I don’t like coffee
  14. I am allergic to dogs, cats, horses, birds, pollen, dust mite, most types of grass and washing dishes
  15. I had weekly injections for six months so I’d be less allergic to the above (it worked except for the dishes)
  16. I’ve met John Travolta and been on his plane – I even have a photo of me wearing his captain’s hat
  17. I hate anything cherry flavoured and until recently thought that is what real cherries tasted like
  18. I have never sung in the shower
  19. Chocolate mudslides and toblerones are my favourite cocktails
  20. I have never broken a bone
  21. I have visited every state and territory in Australia, a fact that Aunty Penny is supremely jealous of even though she’s been all over Europe and I haven’t
  22. I don’t get the obsession with seafood
  23. I split my lip open when I was in year one and the resultant scar tissue means I have full lips
  24. I lie and say I’m a size 12 when really I’m a size 14, but I'm pretty sure the people I'm lying to can tell
  25. I used to have bright pink hair that was so awesome that strangers would stop me to compliment on it
  26. Unfortunately it got me the nickname ‘Pink Bits’ from Map Guy’s best mate. Lovely
  27. I disagree with the eight servings per package on a block of chocolate – it so obviously only one two three four  
  28. I went to Catholic school for 12 years and I’m an atheist
  29. I make lots of lists because I love ticking things off as accomplished
  30. I have been known to put “wake up” on some lists just so I can tick it off
  31. Melissa George was my rollerskating teacher

  32. I have a stationery fetish
  33. I went to Disney Land when I was 10 and Pluto stole my hat
  34. I don’t believe in astrology but will always read my starsign if I see it in a magazine
  35. My mum always baked during bad weather – as a result I get hungry every time it rains
  36. I come across as confident and outgoing but I’m actually desperately anxious meeting new people
  37. Pineapple on a pizza makes me want to puke – it’s a fruit, it does not belong on a pizza
  38. I have an intense phobia of feet
  39. The first concert I ever went to was Billy Joel during his River of Dreams tour
  40. I don’t like the phrase ‘my other half’ – I’m a whole person and so is Map Guy thankyouverymuch
  41. I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me
  42. I quote song lyrics to make me seem mysterious and deep
  43. I completed two-thirds of a degree in postmodern feminism before getting sick (going crazy) and having to withdraw
  44. Sometimes I regret not going back to finish it but take comfort from the fact that a degree in postmodern feminism doesn’t really get you a job
  45. I used to be almost fluent in Auslan (Australian Sign Language) – it’s been a while since I’ve signed so I’m kinda rusty now
  46. I ‘accidentally’ cheated on a test in year one and have felt guilty ever since
  47. I play the saxophone (and the recorder, but hey, so can everyone)
  48. I would rather swallow razor blades than listen to Kenny G
  49. I was on a disability pension for four years
  50. A favourite childhood snack of mine was condensed milk sandwiches 
Tell me something about you that I don't know?
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