100 thoughts everyone has at the Day Spa

I had a relaxing spa treatment when we were on holidays. Well, it would have been relaxing if my freakin' brain had shut up. The only child free hours of the whole holiday, where I could have just blissed out, but no. Stupid brain.

My head sounded more like this:

1. Oh, man, I am SO looking forward to this.
2. A bit of "me time" is just what the doctor ordered
3. A full body scrub, massage and a facial?
4. Yeah, why not. I've earned this.
5. Hrm, lets try the rub samples: chocolate, green tea, or citrus?
6. Stupid question. It's always chocolate.
7. Salt, cacao and even hazelnuts in it.
8. It smells divine! Good choice, me!
9. Would you look at this room.
10. I wish my bedroom looked like this.
11. Mood lighting and candles, warm towels, oooohhhh.
12. Where do I put my clothes?
13. Should I hide my knickers within my clothes?
14. Surely they know I wear knickers, why would I hide them?
15. Yeah, Ima hide them.
16. Disposable knickers, not terribly attractive.
17. Not uncomfortable though.
18. I could get used to these.
19. Then I'd never have to wash knickers again.
20. Do I lay on my front or back first?
21. Go with front so you can lay on your boobs.
22. I'm ready, let's do this.
23. Still ready. Hello?
24. Aha, here she comes.
25. Ohhhh wow that scrub smells even better than the sample
26. OMG I SMELL LIKE NUTELLA
27. I want to lick my shoulder.
28. I wonder if this stuff is edible?
29. That feels awesome.
30. Um, that's my butt. 
31. She just exfoliated my butt.
32. Huh, wasn't that bad. 
33. Ohh yeah, on to the legs.
34. Roll over. How do I do this without falling off the bed?
35. OK got it.
36. Ew, laying on the crunchy salt feels weird.
37. More legs. Yes.
38. Are they hairy? Should I have shaved?
39. Legs done, now what?
40. OK I no longer have a towel over my top half.
41. Um, eep.
42. She's exfoliating my breasts!
43. SHE'S EXFOLIATING MY BREASTS!
44. This is bizarre.
45. I wonder if she think they're nice boobs?
46. She probably doesn't care, seen one set, seen 'em all.
47. Shower time.
48. What cute little soaps.
49. Which way is hot?
50. THAT WAY. OUCH.
51. Much better.
52. It just looks like dirt coming off me.
53. Heh, it's all a big scam, she just rubbed me with sand from outside.
54. Fluffiest. Towel. Ever.
55. Massage time, let's do this.
56. Oh yeah.
57. OH YEAH.
58. OH DEAR GOD YEAH RIGHT THERE
59. Holy shit, did I just moan out loud?
60. The people in the other rooms will think I'm having a happy ending massage!
61. Keep quiet. No groaning and/or moaning.
62. Ooooh but it's soooo goooood.
63. I have never been more relaxed in my life.
64. Please don't let me be so relaxed I fart.
65. How can one tiny person create so much pressure?
66. I want to marry this masseuse. 
67. Wow.
68. So good.
69. So sleepy.
70. Shit, I'm drooling a bit.
71. What?
72. Wait, did I fall asleep?
73. I hope I didn't snore.
74. Rollin' over again.
75. She won't massage my breasts, will she?
76. Aaand yes. Yes, she will.
77. This is in no way erotic, it's just weird.
78. It's not erotic for her is it?
79. Only if floppy, lactating breasts are her thing, I suppose. 
80. OK enough with the boobies, lady, let's move on.
81. Yay, facial time!
82. Why do the cucumber slices have to be that cold.
83. I'm paying someone to wash my face.
84. This stuff smells nice, I wonder what it is?
85. It's probably expensive.
86. I hope she doesn't try to sell me some, I ain't buyin'.
87. That bit between my nose and lips tickles!
88. Right up in to the hairline, guess I'll have to wash my hair later.
89. A décolletage massage! More boobs!
90. Obsessed with breasts.
91. Ooooh hot towel.
92. Yesssssssssss.
93. I feel so hydrated.
94. My face is so plump it's practically FAT!
95. Sad panda, it's almost over.
96. Now, which piece of clothing did I fold my knickers in to?
97. Super relaxed, I wish I could go have a nap now.
98. BRIGHT LIGHTS of reception. Eek!
99. Woah, all that pampering comes at a price.
100. Can't wait to do it again!

What does your brain do when you go to the Day Spa?

A serious case of the CBFs this Christmas

It’s nearly Christmas. I’m sure you already knew that though on account of every single shopping centre swarming with people lining up. Lining up to get in, lining up to buy things, lining up to get them wrapped, lining up to get their kid to sit on a strangers’ knee. Lots and lots of lines.

I have been in Christmas mode for a month now, part of my Operation Christmas Brainwash for the Trickster, and I’m well and truly over it. I don’t want to buy any more presents, I don’t want to go to the shops, I don’t even want to hear The Boob singing Holly Jolly Christmas any more and that is really saying something.

To put it bluntly, I have a serious case of the Can’t-Be-Fuckeds.

The advent calendar I made Tricks, with a different activity every day, is being neglected now that I have the all-important child-with-strange-old-man photo sitting pride of place on my TV cabinet (what people who aren’t rich have instead of display cases and mantles).

We have baked, sung, baked again, watched Christmas cartoons, got crafy, decorated trees, baked some more, went hunting for Christmas lights, and did I mention we baked?

I’m done. I’m over it. There will be no more bloody Christmas activities that involve doing anything more than sitting on my fat arse because I just can’t be fucked. Advent boxes are going unopened and we haven’t even gotten to the gingerbread yet. There will be no more trips to the shops to get something small for so-and-so on the off chance they buy us something because I'm not prepared for another tantrum and I just can’t be fucked. There will be no last minute buying of gorgeous decorations because I just can’t be fucked… and because I have nowhere to put them come January.

I’ve reached my Christmas saturation point and I’m calling it. No more Christmas things.

That is until it’s Christmas eve and I change my mind, get out the Reindeer food and letter to Santa and make some shortbread... ahh fuck it, who am I kidding? We all know I'll do it.

Are you over Christmas already? Got a serious case of the CBFs?

You've been Perthed

Forget six degrees of separation (and the truly shit house movie of the same name), and disregard Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. In Perth, you can connect yourself to most people by three degrees. Which of course is a fact that I just made up but might as well be true.

Around here, it's called being Perthed.

It extends also to bumping in to people you know wherever you go and is the sole reason that I put on makeup when I leave the house and avoid certain shopping centres. I'm pretty much guaranteed to see someone I know and the likelihood of me seeing them is based on a sliding scale:

In my three shifts at my new job I've seen seven people I know, which by my own scale must mean I look like a bit of a dog when I'm there.

On top of those seven people (not literally, we're not playing Twister), I had the honour of introducing the 'Perthed' concept to a reader of this here ol' blog, who is in town visiting from Brisbane and happened to be at my work:

"You're 'Where's My Glow? aren't you?"

*shifty eyes* "Um. Yes?" *mild panic*

Amy, who was an invaluable help to me when Tricky first had issues with anaphylaxis and asthma, recognized my media-whore face and said hello meaning I was simultaneously having a nice little OMG-I-was-recognized ego boost and an OMG-I-was-recognized freak out.

Being recognized by a reader has to be the strangest thing ever to come from Blogging. It has happened a few times now and is testament again to just how small Perth is (one time it happened at teeny tiny Kalgoorlie airport which was a complete spin out), and each time I think a) How is it possible for anyone to recognize me without an Instagram filter and b) Being a celebrity and having this every minute of every day would be fucking weird!!

Do you only see people you know when you look like shit?

Don't forget you can win $100 this week

click the moolah to enter

The Weekend Whine - Episode 7

Oh hai! It's the weekend, there is wine (or this instance, bourbon), therefore there is whine!

Excuse the crappy quality... you'll find out why I'm filming on my phone in a few seconds.


What's made you whine this week?

The day I stabbed Orwell

The other day Tricky's EpiPen, that we were given at the hospital after his first anaphylaxis reaction, expired.

This is a brilliant thing for two reasons:

1 - If it expires it obviously means we didn't have to use it - HOORAY!

2 - I get to stab me an orange! BOOYAH!

I'm not scared of needles, I even had weekly injections for six months to desensitize myself to some allergens, but giving one to someone else is a little bit different to receiving them. There is nothing quite like stabbing fruit to get some pent up aggression out of the system practice, ya know? I decided to give him a name and a backstory because, well, it's me and I do stupid things like project feelings on to food.

I christened him Orwell the Orange. Orwell is allergic to Kiwi fruit and had been in the fruit bowl right next to one. If he'd had lips and eyes, they would have been swelling. I could have drawn them on but that would have been ridiculous, and only highly disturbed people would do that.

It became immediately obvious that the swelling was affecting Orwell's airway too, so I sprang in to action and grabbed the EpiPen, jammed it in his thigh and held it for the required 10 seconds.

That is one big bloody needle

I can only assume Orwell was so busy trying to not die that he didn't feel the giant needle going in, because he didn't even make a peep. Or a squelch. Or whatever noise it is that oranges make. Orwell is one tough cookie orange.

We can now all rest assured, safe in the knowledge that little Orwell is OK and that I'm confident to use a real EpiPen not just our training one.

Oh look, I'm disturbed after all

Are you needle phobic? Do you make oranges in to anthropomorphic test subjects?

I went walking, what did I see?

I live in a bit of a dodgy suburb. It ranks pretty high up there with the top areas for welfare benefits and crime.

With that in mind though, I've never been scared around here in general. Oh sure there was that time Map Guy came face to face with a would-be burglar through the glass door and the time the dog chased an intruder down the side of the house. Both of those times I shat myself, but other than that, I'm not one to just be afraid.

I feel safe walking the streets around here because I know a few of my neighbours and because I know the liklihood of being attacked by a stranger is minimal. Plus I normally have a big fuck-off dog with me.

It's a good thing, because when I do go walking, well, I find some pretty interesting things...

A spelling mistake that has been in the window for over 12 months.

Maybe they are sorry their accessories are shit?

An awesome ride on digger... out for bulk rubbish collection

(yes I checked before taking it)

An organ, dumped in the middle of the Open Space

perfect for impromptu dog recitals

The word "Tricky" drawn in to fresh cement...

What? I totally found it like that! *shifty eyes*

A burnt out car at the bottom of our street

There's been three in that exact spot

An unusual inscription on a painting

in a local office

I will spare you the used condom photo.

What weird stuff do you see in your neighbourhood?

Not just a Mummy Blogger

This morning my MummyAlarm went off, I stretched and got out of my MummyBed while cursing the single digit temperature and wondering if I could somehow will the heater to turn on.

I made some MummyToast, sat on my MummyCouch and turned on my MummyTV.

After watching some MummyPrograms, I brushed my MummyTeeth and styled my MummyHair before getting in my MummyCar to go out to and do MummyThings.

You see, since reproducing, it would appear that all my stuff is now MummyStuff, all my thoughts are now MummyThoughts and all my work is now MummyWork, particularly since I went and got myself a MummyBlog.

But I've never actually had a problem with the term MummyBlogger and readily identify myself as one despite loathing the word mummy. This blog started when I was up the duff and I wrote almost soley about this new direction my life was about to take. I wrote about birth choices, delayed cord clamping, preparing the nursery - you know, all the boring shit that no one gives a fuck about.

As I moved on from the intense first months of parenthood where I spent most of my time figuring out how this tiny human worked to a stage where my boobs got to spend at least some of the day inside my top, I started talking about other things. Random things that had little to do with whether I had a mini-Map Guy running around or not.

Even though every single post wasn't about nappies and breastfeeding, I still identified as a MummyBlogger because I was a mum who blogged. I blog about life and a large part of my life right now is my kid. Though I draw the line at discussing his bowel motions. This blog is a poo free zone. Lots of boobs though.

Whether it's because I've grown a thicker skin with a few years of blogging under my belt or the fact that I've embraced the word from the get go, calling me a MummyBlogger is as much of an insult as calling me white, chubby or asthmatic. You can't offend me with a fact. 

Some really cool things have happened because of this little MummyBlog. I've watched this Glowing community grow and some amazing opportunities opened up to me because of it. I became a writer for The Daily Buzz, was the expo coordinator for DPCON12, spoke at the Media140 conference about the power of blogs, contributed to the Things They Didn't Tell You ebook to raise money for Foundation 18, will soon be speaking to PR students about working with blogs and just recently I've been taken on as a writer for another site (more on that soon).

But that pales in comparison to the successes of my fellow MummyBloggers. Some have turned their blogs in to businesses, some have gone on to write for major publications, become published authors, others have become professional speakers. The list goes on and on and on because they're a pretty amazing bunch. Where they find the time I have no freaking clue, but I'd hazard a guess they spend less time faffing about on Twitter than I do.

So my point, because after all the waffling I do actually have one, is that my issue is not when you call me (or the friends I've made from this gig) a MummyBlogger. My issue, is when you put the word 'just' in front of it.

Do you love or loathe the term?

EDIT: Turns out I used some similar phrases in this post as the amazing Bianca from Big Words did in her post about why she isn't a Mummy Blogger! Great mind think alike... and came to opposite conclusions on the term Mummy Blogger! And yes, I totally freaked out when this was pointed out to me and went "She'll think I copied her! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

10 Things to do during a blackout... when all your friends live inside your computer

The power went out for 19 hours the other day. For someone who spends so much time sitting at my laptop, it was crippling. I have spent longer periods of time offline, but I'd had a chance to prepare for those - empty the inbox, stalk some people on Facebook and charge my phone; all the important things. But this time? Well, this was thrust upon me unknowingly.

Friends were worried about how I'd cope - would I experience withdrawals? Would I have a break down? And, most importantly, how on earth would I keep my lap warm without my precious, albeit almost dead, laptop?

Here are the top ten things to do during a blackout, that *ahem* may or may not be exactly what I did during the #PerthBlackout. 

1. Play find the coffee table with your foot while hunting for candles. Extra points if you find it with your pinkie toe and bend it back far enough that you wonder if it requires medical attention

Jumping up and down in agony after stubbing my toe

2. Use your smart phone to try and find out when the power will come back on. Realize that the entire state is trying to find out at the same time and the site has crashed. Tweet about it, but don't reply to anyone because you're saving your battery.

3. Use the light on your phone to find your proper torch. Curse the day you let your child use said torch as a toy because the batteries are now flat. Hunt around the house for others; check that basket of junk in your laundry, stereos, portable speakers and *ahem* the "special mummy daddy draw".

4. Cook dinner by the light of the gas flame and a couple of candles. Because the rangehood won't work and it's too bloody cold to open any doors, it's likely you'll set the smoke alarm off. Because the house is so eerily silent, the alarm will sound at least 7000 times louder than usual. Tweet a picture.

Candle light dinner prep

5. Turn the light switch on every time you enter a room and feel like a tool. In an effort to cover your stupidity, shout out "I was just testing". Realize that nothing can ever, ever, ever cover how much of an idiot you are.

6. Turn your smart phone in to a wifi hotspot so your partner can check his email and Twitter. Watch your battery life drain before your eyes and shut it down, panicking that you now only have 10% left and no idea of when the power will be back.

7. Play with glow sticks. If you're a male, shove a glow stick bracelet around your tackle and sing "If ya like it then you shoulda put a cock ring on it". Threaten to Tweet a picture and watch him run away, screaming like a girl.

Not sure that's very hygienic

8. Drive a suburb over to an almost equally Twitter-dependent  friend's house so that you can both use your car charger. Cruise the streets checking out the fallen down trees and having a bit of a gossip while the phones charge. Stop to get chips to keep your energy levels up.

9. Go to your neighbour's house and ask if they want to play murder in the dark. Hear them scream and run away to call the police because you didn't introduce yourself first. Make a hasty retreat and be thankful that it was so dark they couldn't possibly give an accurate description.

10. Have a freezing cold shower then jump in to bed and warm your icy feet up on your husband's back while simultaneously warming your hands on his front. Hang on tight, he's likely to buck.

What do you do during a blackout? Does it involve inappropriate use of glow sticks?

This blog makes me feel...

Blogs can bring out a lot of emotion. Some make me laugh, make me cry, make me want to jump on a bandwagon, make me angry, make me happy, make me sad blah blah blah. Some make me do all that in just one post.

Here are 25 blogs from my reader and how they make me feel... see my tongue? It's very firmly in my cheek. OK, go.

Childhood101 makes me feel like I need to get a craft table and some pipecleaners

Edenland makes me feel like I need to get off my fat, white, middle class arse

Fe Lumsdaine makes me feel like I suck at taking photos

Freerange In Suburbia makes me feel like I need more leggings as pants

Frog Ponds Rock makes me feel like I don't have an arty bone in my body

Glen’s Life makes me feel like being a man for a day

Good Golly Miss Holly makes me feel like I'm terrible at time management

Good Googs makes me feel like I don't have enough pages on my blog

Kate Says Stuff makes me feel like I haven't got a big enough back yard

Magneto Bold Too makes me fucking feel like I don't fucking say fuck enough

Maid In Australia makes me feel like I need to go on holidays more

Mumstrosity makes me feel like I don't have a cool enough nickname for my kid

My Three Ring Circus makes me feel like my family is too small and nuclear and boring

Parental Parody makes me feel like closing my legs forever lest I have twins

Pickle Bums makes me feel like my blog looks crap and needs a redesign

Singular Insanity makes me feel like my own accent is shit

Sleepless Nights makes me feel like I need to go to a writing course so I can write heaps gooder

Stuff With Thing makes me feel like I don't have enough ducks

Styling You makes me feel like I should really get out of my jimjams already

The Armory makes me feel like getting drunk on a bus then getting kicked out of a pub

The Tiger Father makes me feel like having a solid gold toilet

Tina Gray {dot} Me makes me feel like I am lacking in parentheses

Toushka Lee makes me feel like living in a house is sooo passe

Wonderland of Sound makes me feel like I have terrible taste in music

WoogsWorld makes me feel like I need professional photos taken

This blog makes me feel... no, actually, that's enough. This blog makes me feel.

How do blogs make you feeeeeeeeeeeel?

I live in my house therefore it looks shit

I hate mess. It makes me anxious. I freak out when people are coming over and go on a massive cleaning spree (previously mentioned as Operation Furiously Unclutter and Clean the Kitchen - aka Operation F.U.C.K.) in the hopes that my visitors will not see the bomb site I reside in.

After having Tricky I've actually kept the house a lot tidier than I did before, for the sole reason that little hands get in to a lot of things they shouldn't if I leave them lying around. But my house is still not ever going to be featured in a magazine because it's actually lived in.

So, inspired by Marita from Stuff With Thing who issued a challenge today to show you her house how it really is (#thisisourhome) I've vlogged my house for you exactly as it is.




I'm home alone for most of the day... I was tempted to do some cleaning but then I saw Zoey's vlog from January and decided against it. Instead I'll be updating my media kit, doing some vlogs and eating the chocolate slice featured in the vlog.

What does your house look like?

The Vlog About Nothing

Kinda like Seinfeld, but, you know, not at all.

10 Things You Didn't Want To Know

The fabulous St Murphy tagged me in a post aaages ago and I figure it's about time I got on with it and created this fab list because this little corner of the blogosphere is getting way emo lately.

So here it is. 10 things you didn't want to know about yours truly.

1. I can turn my arms around almost 360 degrees. It's an awesome party trick and is great for creeping out people but I cannot for the life of me remember how I figured out I could do it but I'm bendy like a pretzel thanks to hypermobile joints. I'll vlog it for you one day.

2. When I was little I used to think the emergency stopping lane next to the freeway was actually an emergency shopping lane. I imagine that if you were on your way to someone's house when you realized you'd forgotten to grab something for morning tea you could pull in to it and it would lead you directly to the shops.

3. I have been known to eat slices of apple dipped in Nutella. Actually sometimes I don't even bother to cut it up and just slather it over the outside. I come away with a bit of a Nutella mo' but it's totally worth it.

4. Going in to a toilet immediately after a woman and finding the toilet seat up kinda freaks me out a bit.

Yes, this is my toilet.

5. Sitting on a chair when it is still warm from someone else's bum makes me dry retch. I realize there has been no touching of flesh but the idea of my bottom stewing in someone else's farts just does not sit well with me.

6. I'm scared of anything that moves unpredictably. This includes cockroaches, jumping spiders, crickets and drunken teenagers. 

7. I've never ever had a credit card. It's less about being responsible and more about not having any trust in myself to resist shiny things.

8. I generally take really short showers, like a few minutes at the most, and I have no idea how people can stay in there any longer than that. Don't you get bored?

9. I am a snorer. Of the chainsaw variety. When looking for roomates for Blogopolis I was shitting myself that I would not be able to find another person willing to admit their nocturnal noises weren't the prettiest. Until I found Kelley. Except she says I make cute snoring noises. I think Map Guy would disagree with her.

10. I watch movies that I love over and over and over again until I know all the words. If it's a sad movie though I'll fast forward through the sad bits and just pretend it didn't happen.

Now that your life is complete from knowing these 10 things, it is time for me to pass the torch...
Miss Pink @ The Mummy Autobiography, Jen @ Four Bees at Home, Lil @ Going Left and Kellie @ The Good, The Bad & The Unnecessary. Go forth and tell me 10 things I didn't really want to know.

Tell me something about YOU that I don't need to know.

Home/Hooker/Housewife

A while back the VegemiteVix tagged me in a Pay It Forward blog post. I don't often participate in them because they're a little too chain-letter-ish for my liking. I used to hate getting chain letters, even the harmless ones in school. Being told I would get pimples if I didn't pass on a letter is just bullshit... I did pass on a few of those bloody letters and I got pimples anyway.

But being tagged by someone as awesome as VegemiteVix? Different story. It's always nice to be tagged by someone you think is cool because of that little place inside that says "someone cool thinks I'm taggable? Wicked".

But then I hit a hurdle.

I have no freakin idea what the Pay It Forward meme is, other than you tag some blogs that you read... what else? Um... er... nup, I dunno.

So, considering the original tag was included in a post that also had meme where you describe yourself as a house for sale, a highclass call girl and a housewife. I'm just gonna run with that one and while it's visiting Where's My Glow? I'm gonna rename it Home/Hooker/Housewife because I have a thing for alliteration and I like to be different. It's like a Variation on a Theme Meme.

Miss Vix actually did it properly because the woman can write, she even "writes copy" whatever that means. Now I'm not a writer so I will just wing it with my tongue embedded firmly in cheek as always. I'll let you figure out the euphemisms yourself.

Home

For Sale: Bargain Fix-er Upper-er-er-er

Conveniently located on a highly fertile dairy farm, this would be the perfect house for a growing family, with plenty of room, spacious verandahs and a really huge back yard for the kids to run around in.

The location needs some work, and has been let go in the past few years, particularly in the attic. All baggage there has been left behind by the previous occupant - there are sure to be many treasures in amongst the skeletons if you take time to sift through it.

Out front is a poorly maintained, overgrown garden. But nothing a little weed killer and TLC couldn't fix.

Hooker

This buxom brunette beauty is a qualified masseuse but will charm you with her humour and style before she ever lays a hand on your aching... shoulders. Don't be fooled though, this girl does not come cheap. Start saving your pennies now, it'll all be worth it for the infamous Glow Job.

Sex and Candy, baby!

Housewife

Housewife wanted, apply within. To replace current model which is failing to maintain any semblance of order normally associated with the running of a household.


Current model refuses to clean and just shoves things behind closed doors and in to cupboards.

Though when it does cook, it cooks good. But will not tidy up after itself.

Tag, you're it. Toushka Lee and Calm Blue Ocean. Beat my alliteration sensation, I dare you!