Good Vibes

I try not to embarrass my kids too much when it comes to the online world. I'm very aware they have not signed up to be "blog kids", so I have always tried to not share things that could come back to haunt them. Having said that, I'm all for an embarrassing story or two that would not increase the chance of them being bullied or influence a future employer (one of the reasons my two have online monikers). Though I'm not sure if this is more embarrassing for Bobbin or me...

Tricky and Bobbin are now of an age where they don't need 24/7 supervision, and I must say, it's lovely to have come to the light at the end of the high dependency tunnel. I can go to the toilet and not worry she's climbed on top of the four wheel drive like she did when she was just about to turn two. I can do some work in the study and not have to stop to wipe a bum.

So after MG and I had a particularly late Saturday night a few weeks ago we thought we could just stay in bed on Sunday morning and let the kids entertain themselves. I mean, what could they possibly get up to?

Famous last words. Here's what went down:

I was in bed, my eyes closed, drifting in and out of sleep and I could hear the kids playing. In my memory of this, my hair falls in tendrils around my serene face as the slightest smile plays on my lips, and I dream about running in to Chris Hemsworth at the shops and having a chat (because in my dream we're old friends). In reality my face was smooshed on the pillow, with a little puddle of drool, and my hair looking like a bird nest.

They were playing so nicely and I was thinking of how, in that very moment, life was pretty good. I love recognising those little times. The boring moments that are somehow magical because I'm surrounded by the people (MG, Tricks and Bobbin) and things (my bed) I love.

After about an hour or so I thought I should probably get up. Again, in my memory it's like a movie. I stretch lightly and slip out of bed, placing a silk dressing gown around me. In reality, I yawn so wide my jaw cracks, my eyes are puffy and I am wearing an old, stained maternity singlet with one boob threatening to pop out (and not in a good way). And right now I'm wondering how on earth the romance is still alive in my relationship.

I headed to our bathroom and found Bobbin looking at herself in the mirror, pretending to put makeup on with my brushes.

"Oooh what are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm a famous singer, I'm getting ready for another concert. I'm Libby" she said, referencing a LEGO Friends movie.

"Excellent. Can't wait to hear it, Bobbin."

She glared at me.

"Sorry, I meant Libby!"

Appeased, she continued on as I leaned over to give her a kiss on top of her head. When I stood up I noticed that our towels had been taken off the rail and were in a pile on the floor.

"What happened to my towels?" I asked, still half asleep.

"I couldn't get the microphone to stop buzzing so I covered it." she replied.

OH. FUCK.

No. No. No. No. NO!

I knew exactly what this meant.

Immediately wide awake, I lifted the towels to find the still-buzzing star of the aforementioned late night for MG and I: my, ahem, "body massager".

My sweet, innocent Bobbin had been pretending to be a purple haired LEGO rockstar, singing in to my vibrator for god knows how long. In her defence, it really does look like a microphone.

I had accidentally left it on our bathroom sink after washing it and then passing out asleep the night before, so there is the tiniest sliver of a silver lining here in that it was at least squeaky clean.

I switched it off, mumbling something about how it must be broken and I'll get rid of it. So far, she hasn't asked for her 'microphone' back and I'm hoping it stays that way!

Have your kids ever found something they shouldn't have? 

Contraception Conundrum

Image via CC Hey Paul Studios

It seems like all my friends are pregnant right now.

Every time I turn around there is an announcement, baby showers, the purchasing of miniature clothing that costs more than it's full size counterpart, and scrummy newborn pictures. 

And I feel... absolutely nothing.

I can get caught up in the excitement of their pregnancies and I genuinely coo over their beautiful babes, but there is no "ooomph, my ovaries" or "maybe just one more?" questions. 

It's pretty bloody nice, I have to admit.

I feel done. I gave away all our baby stuff, but so many people tell me that it's transient, that the next squished up, hollering, poo machine I see will instantly turn me to mush and I'll be asking for all that plastic crap back.

But here I am. Still feeling nothing. Still enjoying feeling nothing.

I felt done with two even as I was still pregnant with Bobbin. I soaked up the (relatively few) enjoyable parts of the pregnancy as "my last" from the moment I knew there was a little blob of cells there. I'm not sure what it is, I just don't see myself with more than two. Perhaps years of watching 'Outnumbered' on the ABC? 

I've been seriously considering getting sterilised despite feeling like I'm talking about a pet and wondering if I have to wear the cone of shame after surgery whenever I say it. So a tubal ligation is on the cards. Hell, I'd totally consider the whole hysterectomy while I'm there, thankyouverymuch.

I don't like this implant in my arm, ain't no chance I'm having an IUD (so many of those fuckers migrate or cause MAJOR dramas - calm down those who love them, I'm glad they work for you), I barely remember to brush my teeth so taking a tablet every day isn't reliable, and whilst I don't mind condoms I'm petrified they'll break. 

MG and I are in a very enviable position for a lot of people. We've tried for a baby three times and conceived first time, every time. Our first was ectopic and I lost my tube (I should totes get a discount on a tubal ligation, yes? Half price?), then Tricks, then Bobbin. In my mind, a broken condom = instant baby. No really, I have nightmares where we have sex (OK that bit isn't the nightmare part, that sounded bad), then in the dream I wake up the next day ready to give birth.

With so many struggling with fertility, IVF, miscarriages and the like, I feel almost guilty for our "problem", I know people who would swap places with me in a heartbeat, and I've struggled with that. Fertile guilt, if you will. Pathetic, I know, but my Catholic upbringing has enshrined in me a deep seated guilt over everything and anything.

However it doesn't take away the fact that I'm done having kids and in the almost two years since Bobbin was born (wait, what?), that feeling of completeness in our family size hasn't wavered. I'm done. I'm happy. I have two great kids. 

But tubal ligation is just so permanent. I change my mind about what I want for dinner, how can I know I won't change my mind about this? When I umm and ahh about chicken or steak I'm not vowing to never eat the other one ever again. EVER AGAIN. Ah man, I don't know what to do. Help?

The Little Death - Australian film review and giveaway

This is a #S1 sponsored post for Entertainment One and Digital Parents Collective

For full details please see my disclosure policy

This movie opens on a scene of a foot fetish. ABORT! ABORT! NoooOOOoooooo! Panic stations! How was someone like me with a major and completely irrational fear of feet, chosen to review this?

Well, I was told "it's witty and a little bit naughty, and it made me think of you". Little ol' me? Naughty? *ahem* Never! *shifty eyes*

But I pushed through the toe licking because I'd seen the trailer and thought it looked bloody brilliant. You have to check it out below, it is most definitely NSFW in the best possible ways; you've been warned! 

I had never heard of The Little Death before this despite it being released late last year, but it ticked a lot of boxes for me. Australian. Check. Dark humour? Check. Stars Damon Herriman? Check! I love him as an actor, one of my faves for sure, and he doesn't disappoint in this, nominated for the AACTA for Best Lead Actor for his role as Dan. 

The title is explained in the opening credits, which, phew, because I'd never heard of the term before. Spoiler: it's from the French 'la petite mort' and it means orgasm! 

With relationships, love, romance, desperation, taboo and fetishism, it might not be one for a Sunday arvo at Nanna's house - although maybe Gran is in to that sort of thing, who am I to judge? - but I thought it was great and found myself laughing out loud at parts, cringing at some deliciously awkward scenes and empathizing with some of the characters. 

The interpreter scene is hilarious - though it did feel like it was randomly slotted in until a few scenes later when a (somewhat weak) link between the characters is revealed. But I can forgive that because it was so well done. I've signed Auslan for years and I always get a buzz out of seeing it portrayed on screen, so I was a little disappointed to find that the actor who plays Sam is not Deaf. There are Deaf actors out there, it would have been great to see one of them fill the role. But in saying that, kudos to actor T.J. Power because his signs and even the noises he made were so spot on that I believed he was.

I was a little put off by the sexual assault references, and found myself cringing at times, hoping like hell what I thought was about to happen didn't actually happen. Writer and director, Josh Lawson, managed to bring humour to such a serious subject without it being crass, however the scenes could easily be triggering for people who have felt the trauma of sexual assault, so consider that before watching.  

I really enjoyed this film and learned a few things too, like "Dacryphilia", which is achieving arousal when someone is crying. Chopping onions just got sexy.

The Little Death is available to own on DVD and BluRay from JB HiFi or digital download on iTunes. Watch it and realize, in the words of Patrick Brammall (who plays Richard) that "no one's normal. And if you're normal, that's not normal. So just be weird and embrace that."

...GIVEAWAY NOW CLOSED...

I have 15 copies of The Little Death to give away! To enter, tell me in a comment below (or on this Facebook post) what you or someone you know has done/would do to spice up a relationship! The most creative/funny/unusual/surprising answers will win. Full terms and conditions can be found here.

...GIVEAWAY NOW CLOSED...

I had SEX!

Quite the revelation to begin with, no?

The thing is, whenever I've told anyone I'm pregnant I feel like all I'm actually doing is declaring that I had sex. This made it particularly awkward when I told my parents. And MapGuy's parents. Last time I put it off for weeks. This time I copped out and got Tricky to tell them. I know, I'm weak. Getting a two year old to do my dirty work.

See the thing is, not only do I feel like I'm telling people I've had sex, but I think, just for a split second, they get a horrible visual of it.

How utterly ridiculous right? Why on earth would I think that? Well, um, because when someone tells me they're pregnant... I kinda automatically think that way of them. There, I admitted it. Am quite obviously a giant sex obsessed pervert.

Here is how my interprets relatively common pregnancy related phrases:

"I'm pregnant" = "I had sex... see?"

"I'm due in August" = "I had sex in early November"

"Yes, I have one son already, he's almost three" = "I had sex almost three years and nine months ago"

"Yes I know the sex of the baby" = "OMG I just said sex"

At DPCON I sat with the lovely Cassie from The Flying Drunken Monkey. It was the preggos putting on a united front and encouraging each other just in case soft cheeses were presented (she popped out the adorable Chloe about a week ago). At one point we were talking to Beth from BabyMac and I blurted out my conundrum. Which was met by both of them shouting "I'VE HAD SEX! SHE'S HAD SEX!". Which was, of course, completely ignored in a room full of bloggers who quite often randomly shout strange things.

I've never been backwards about being forwards with sexuality. I don't find it dirty or shameful. Get a couple glasses of wine in to me and I'll happily talk for hours about it. Yet the moment pregnancy is on the cards - the whole reason sex exists - I get uncomfortable with the idea of people knowing. Because if a preggo belly isn't a billboard for sex I don't know what is.

In the time honoured tradition of blogging about things that make me squirm, here I am shouting it from the rooftops. I HAD SEX. And all of a sudden I feel the need to go to confession.

Did you feel weird telling your parents you were up the duff?

Four (other) things you can do with your ben-wa balls

It is not news that I have a Kegel exerciser. I told y'all about it and did a giveaway. A giveaway that over ONE THOUSAND people entered. Here I was thinking I'd be hearing crickets when I started talking about lady parts, but you lot are very pro-vagina and came in droves to get your hands on those awesome pink ben-wa balls.

Quite often since that day I've wondered what you could do with a ben wa ball when you no longer have a use for it? Once you have your vag of steel it's a bit sad for 'Ben' to just sit in your naughty drawer gathering dust so I took it upon myself to find out and let you know - think of it as a community service announcement if you will.

So here you have it. Four things you can use your ben-wa balls as when you're finished with them:

1. Earrings. They might be slightly heavy, but now that you've got a super strength vag, it's only right that you get super strength ears. This shit will be all over Etsy soon I just know it.

2. Bespoke Keyring. Particularly effective when you are at a swingers party - c'mon, you know that gal has been exercising!

3. Christmas Decorations. 'Tis the season to be jolly, and jolly you will be with these on your tree. In fact, I believe ben-wa is actually the ancient word for "inappropriate decoration".

4. Cat Entertainment Device. I have it on good authority that cats adore ben-wa balls and will go off like someone has spiked the catnip.

Doctored under CC license - cheers, HortenseJones

If you're going to use them again afterwards, I suggest a high quality cleaning substance. Or bleach if you're allergic to cats.

How do you use your ben-wa balls when you don't need them any more? Do you name your toys?

*No cats were harmed in the making of this blog post. I tried, but no one would let me borrow their cat for a sex toy photoshoot.

This one time, I pissed myself laughing {with giveaway}

This post is about vaginas and balls. Hooray! I wasn't entirely sure if I should post it or not but after a discussion with my mothers' group about taking away stigma and making people feel less alone, I decided this was a community service thing. So here we go...

Childbirth isn't too kind to a gal's pelvic floor, ya know? Actually, even if your bub came out the escape hatch you're not immune because it's the act of carrying a watermelon for forty weeks that puts the most pressure on it.

Once you start showing a bit of baby bump it seems everyone wants to drill it in to you to do your pelvic floor exercises. From midwives to OBGYNs and passing motorists, they all seem to shout "Squeeeeeeeeeze! CLENCH!" the second you're within earshot. And now, it would seem, I'm getting in on the act, too.

If your pelvic floor is weakened it can mean light bladder leakage. LBL. Or, as it's known in my circles, PMSL. Now we don't want LBL or PMSL when we're on a night out in the CBD wearing our LBDs (with no VPLs!) while we drink UDLs. OMG, who drinks UDLs anymore? I mean, WTF?

So yes, for the record, if I've been coughing constantly or I'm a little *ahem* intoxicated and laughing with my girlfriends and I have a full bladder, then I have to clench like no one's business to prevent it happening.  Do you have three friends? Well one of you more than likely has LBL because 25% of women do - when coughing, laughing, sneezing, jumping or sometimes just because.

For the handful of men that may happen upon this, don't panic, when we tell you we might piss ourselves laughing it's not like we empty our entire bladders as soon as you say something bordering on witty. It's different for everyone but it might just be a drop or two which, after discussing with Map Guy, feels exactly the same as when you put it away "a shake short". Not the nicest.

20c piece for comparison

Anyway, back to the laydeez. This little Ben Wa-ish ball will help strengthen your pelvic floor muscles to help with bladder control. It's called a Laselle Kegel Exerciser from Intimina and yes, it goes inside of you. There are different weights you can try (it's like resistance training for your vag!) and you can connect more than one together depending on if you've read 50 Shades of Grey how advanced you are... do you have an advanced vagina?

"Beneficial to all women, Kegel exercising is recommended to reduce the risk of incontinence, prepare for a healthy pregnancy, help regain pelvic strength after childbirth, and maintain vaginal tightness"

This little sucker makes it less likely you'll be avoiding jumping up and down since the exact same muscles are used to have a really great time in the boudoir it can have a positive effect there too... which is sorta just jumping up and down of a different nature, really. In short, it can make your sex life a-maaaay-zing. 

If you freak out every time you're going to sneeze, cough or laugh then you'll benefit from this. If you've always wanted to try one and have been too embarrassed to buy one, then now's your chance.


I have eight of these fab little things valued at $19.95 each to give away and no, I'm not going to make you comment publicly or share it on your Facebook wall in order to enter.

Complete the entry form below to go in to the running to win one of the beginner balls - your name will not appear anywhere. Then think about emailing this post to your mothers' group, your sisters, your mums and your friends... 25% of them will be effected.

This competition is now closed.

Thanks to the 1038 people who entered!

This is not a sponsored post. However an admin fee was charged. Full terms and conditions can be found here.

50 Shades of Torturous Writing

*let's play spot the typo - I'm leaving it in, it's too funny to mess with*

I read Fifty Shades of Grey. A friend was so insistent I read it that she went out and bought it for me (no, seriously).

I have to admit, I was happy to receive it because I was curious to find out if it really was as bad as I’d heard it was without having to wait forever on the library loan list, because sure as shit I wasn't spending any money on it. I had my fingers crossed that it was going to be one of the "so bad it's good" books... I was wrong. It’s pretty shit. Actually it’s quite painful to read. BUT… I’m going to defend it... well a bit.

A lot of people have written how the book encourages abusive relationships because Christian admits he likes to control everything Ana does and even says he likes to hurt her. Well, I have to admit, barely a few pages in and I wanted to seriously hurt her and her bloody inner goddess too.

But calling it the end of feminism is going a bit far. Hello, it's a Dominant Submissive relationship… control and pain is what BDSM is all about. Consenting adults are allowed to have sex however they want and yes, some have fantasies involving inflicting pain and others receiving pain. A huge chunk of Feminism is about women having the right to sexual freedom and if a woman chooses to enter in to a relationship with full knowledge that it’s gonna be full of kinky shit then power to her.

As far as full knowledge goes, a contract with negotiable limits clearly defined certainly checks that box. If she doesn't want to leave that relationship (as she is encouraged to do), despite not liking part of it because "she'll miss him" and believes she can change him, that's not proof it's anti-feminist, it's proof the female protagonist is a horny dickhead.

BDSM is nothing new and has graced (or disgraced, depending on how you feel about it) the pages of thousands of erotic novels and novellas, I don’t understand why all the fuss is being made now and never before, particularly when this one pales in comparison to some I've read. Perhaps because this one claims to have more of a storyline and is not just sex, sex, sex? From the reviews out there all I can guess is that a lot of people are having trouble differentiating between a Dominant and a misogynist prick. Christian happens to be both but they’re not necessarily mutually exclusive.

Swathes of reviews mention that it's entirely unbelievable. Ummm, yeah, it started as Twilight fan fiction. You know, VAMPIRES. What did you expect? I don't see anyone banging on about that shit being unbelievable and yet the main characters are mythical creatures. That aside, this is no less believable than any of the shite “romance” novels out there. Girl falls for boy, he wants sex, she wants love, tries to change him, yaddah yaddah yaddah. The only difference is that there happens to be a couple of whips and chains thrown in.

If your problem is that the characters are insanely attractive then how about you show me a movie or TV show where they aren’t? No, really, show me. Don’t point out Shallow Hal because that movie used skinny, beautiful Gwyneth Paltrow in an attempt to make the point that skinny and beautiful aren’t important.

If your issue is that Ana goes from inexperienced virgin to insatiable, multiple orgasming, sex machine in a matter of pages you won't be alone. But show me a Hollywood sex scene that portrays sex, particularly fist time sex, realistically and you may have a point. 

So, should you read it? If you like good books with proper storylines and character development I’d steer clear. But if you can handle reading the thoughts of a chick who quite obviously needs to see a doctor about her serious vascular condition and has a penchant for rolling her eyes, biting her lip and "hitching" her breath on every. single. fucking. page, then go for it.

It might perk up your sex life, it might give you a laugh, or it might make you want to poke your eyes out with a swizzle stick. Or, like me, a bizarre combination of all three. It’s free from the library and only $10 from the shops. With the amount that have sold worldwide, maybe the author can pay for some writing lessons and a much needed fucking thesaurus. 

As I said, it’s incredibly painful to read… but since it’s about BDSM maybe that’s the point?

Have you read it? What did you think?

10 Reasons Why I'm Not Having Sex With You Tonight

Oh look at you clicking over here to check out my sex life, you pervert!

I figured it was about time to get my Cranky Pants on about someone trying to get my Cranky Pants off, so if you're in any way related to myself or Map Guy, you might wanna click away now. Alternatively, feel free to just give me awkward looks the next time we see each other, OK? Great, let's get to it: 

10 Reasons Why I'm Not Having Sex With You Tonight

1. I know how you treated the last girl you slept with as another notch on your belt. It shits me off that you're labeled a Casanova for behaving like an animal whereas if I did the same I'd be branded a slut. Assholes annoy me but double standards piss me off even more.

2. Because I don't actually know who you are. We may have had a few drinks, a lot of laughs and danced the night away together, hell, I may have even professed my undying love to you... but I'm not stupid enough to actually go home with a complete stranger.

3. It's midnight, I've been up since 4am dealing with a velcro toddler who is sick/tantruming/just bloody annoying and I'm completely knackered. If you were interested could you have not hinted at it before 9pm when you were playing video games? The only way you're allowed to touch me right now is if you're massaging my aching shoulders (and no, it will most definitely not lead to anything after the day I've had!).

4. I'm surfing the crimson wave / having a visit from Aunt Flo / have the painters in / it's that time of the month / experiencing code red / riding the injured mouse / have my rags / have my period and I really can't be bothered with towels or showers.

5. The sheets are clean. I love the feeling of a clean body on clean sheets - just give me one night to luxuriate in that silky goodness. P.S. The couch is available, let's go there. P.P.S. The kitchen bench is fine, let's go there too.

6. The toddler is awake and calling for me. There is nothing that kills a mood quicker than your child calling out your name when you're ten minutes in to the deed - the only person calling out my name at that time should be you. Time to shut up shop and hang a "Sorry, we're closed" sign on the front of my knickers.

7. You're not my husband.

8. You are my husband.

 

9. My/your parents are in the next room. I realize they all know we've had sex, we have a child to prove it - but do they really have to hear it? It's kinda hard to feel aroused when you can hear your inlaws breathing, plus, I'm not exactly known for *ahem* being quiet.

10. We have run out of condoms and the last time I even held your hand I got pregnant. The whole two year age gap is overrated, I'm not ready to be up the duff again and I'm not chancing it, buster! Put it back in your pants.

Why aren't you having sex tonight? Don't tell me you have a headache, that excuse doesn't cut it