Friday, March 30, 2012

FlogYoBlog Friday: The DPCON12 Edition

Can't blog. Freaking out. Aaaah it's today! It's today! You know what to do, right, link up and all that jazz? Ready, GO! P.S Hope this works, never posted it from my iPad before!
How to FlogYoBlog
  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 (don't just put your homepage URL)
  5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger then be nice and spread the comment love


Thursday, March 29, 2012

Anonymous trolls: Not just for blogs!

There has been much talk on the interwebz of late about trolls. Actually that's a lie, it's not of late, it's always. There is always someone unwilling to put their name to a comment for all sorts of reasons, not just to flame (though that's normally the case). But you're deluded if you think not putting your regular email address on a comment or blocking out your name in a tweet somehow grants you traceless anonymity.

The other day I met up with my Aunty Steffi (not her real name, except for the Aunty part), in the city on her lunch break. She has only just found her way to the world of Facebook and all she knows of blogs is that I have one and it's where I word vomit occasionally. She pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the table for me to read.

"This was on my desk when I got in to work yesterday" she said, her face defiant.

Click for larger image

"Oh my gawd you have a TROLL!" I screeched. A totally appropriate response given our food court location.

As someone who has been teased for laughing too much and too loudly, seeing this cowardly unsigned letter made my blood boil.

Now this could have been an awful story. I could be telling you how Steffi was so upset by the letter that she now feels uncomfortable going to work. That she has let this cretin win... but that's not the case. Because all of the women in my family are of the kick-arse variety.

"That's terrible, Steffi! What did you do?"

"I stuck it up above the kitchen sink and wrote next to it: 'Can the person who left this on my desk please come and see me so we can discuss this like adults'"

Her colleagues have rallied around her in support and the ongoing "Shhhh you're breathing too loud" jokes that have started since the discovery of the note are made loud enough for whomever printed the note to hear. She won't go down without a fight... and she most definitely will not go quietly.

And just like all things on the internet, all things in an office are traceable. The IT department can, within minutes, find out which computer sent that document to the printer...

So, Steffi's troll, welcome to the 21st Century where there is no such thing as anonymity. Douche.

Have you been bullied at work?

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

A week in tweets

The fabulous Emma from Mommy Has A Headache (and one half of Cocktails at Naptime) demanded I take part in let me know about the awesome meme created by Jo of Slummy Single Mummy - a week in tweets - complete with funky badge. I don't do anything these days unless I get a badge... I'm like a misguided Girl Scout or something.


Without further ado, this is what the last seven days would look like if I was restricted to one tweet a day. Can you imagine me only tweeting once a day? Yeah, me neither.
Tuesday:
In Sydney today for the #NortonOne shindig at CafĂ© Sydney. This blogging thing rocks my socks… in this case, anti DVT flight socks.

Wednesday:
Bought some Max Brenner pecans to take home for Map Guy… they didn’t make it. What can I say? The bald man has great nuts #DontTellMapGuy

Thursday:
Tricky is unwell and appears to be afraid of snot -cries whenever he wipes his nose. Is this what is meant by the boogie monster? #KillMeNow

Friday:
Sitting at home with wine, cheese, olives and a looming deadline. Boy do I know how to party! #AllWorkAndNoPlayMakesGlowUseLongHashtags

Saturday:
Just been to the BEST vintage/retro/rockabilly inspired wedding! Congratulations @WondersOfAllis! You looked divine #WonderWedding (yes, I gave my friends a wedding hashtag)

Sunday:
This getting up at the crack of dawn on a Sunday can go bite me. Meanwhile I will go bite the buttermilk pancakes, bacon and maple syrup I just made #NOMS

Monday:
Kinda chuffed with my first ever attempt at cake decorating #frangipanis #GlowMakesCakes #FondantOverload 
 

I could put a call to action question here about your week, but really, all I want to know is that you think my cake looks amazeballs

Monday, March 26, 2012

5 things not to say to a parent (and by parent I actually mean me)

The pants are out again! Can I get a woot woot?

When my parenting skills are called in to question I can go from zero to Cranky in 1.39 seconds. A quick glance at the news will show you children who aren't being cared for properly and you're going to tut tut at me based on the fact that there is some dried weetbix spot welded to the side of my kid's face? Priorities, people!

Prepare for rant in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1....

Five things not to say to a parent
(and by a parent I quite obviously mean me)

1. You made your son a toy kitchen? But he's a boy...
Really? You're that narrow minded that you're going to feel awkward when my son pretends to cook? A dude can't enjoy cooking? Are you afraid I'm going to feminize him, is that it? Geez, you're gonna totally flip when I show you his Jemima doll and pink teddy. Take your archaic views and fuck off.

2. Oh you're still breastfeeding? Umm, errr, that's, ummm, great... you're gonna stop soon though, right? I mean, it's not beneficial anymore.
Not beneficial? Tricky's needed medication for a cold ONCE in almost two years. Plus I can comfort him instantly when he's hurt, and manage an extra hour of precious sleep every morning thanks to continuing. Besides that, what's it to you? Pretty sure the decision to wean my child has absolutely nothing to do with you. If I want to feed him until he graduates highschool, I will.

3. You don't let your kid eat chips, yet you eat them in front of him? You're so cruel!
Is it also cruel that I drive a car in front of him and don't allow him to take the wheel? That I cook and bake with sharp knives and a hot oven yet don't let him near them? No. I'm the adult, he's the child, he doesn't have to do everything I do. Therefore your reasoning is bullshit and I'm not listening to you.

4. He doesn't talk much... he's lazy.
Lazy? LAZY? Toddler and lazy do not belong in the same sentence. We have gone from a deformity that has the potential to cause developmental delays to a kid hitting milestones just fine and 'normal'. I can't even begin to tell you how awesome that is. Just because he isn't doing the exact same thing at the exact same time as you/your kid/his dad/his second fucking cousin doesn't mean anything. Kids do things when they're ready.

5. He's very skinny... what are you feeding him?
A range of nutritious, home prepared meals, thanks for insinuating asking. This child is eating us out of house and home before the age of two, I dare not think of how it will be when he is a teenager, but it's likely we'll have to take out a second mortgage. He is a clone of his string bean father, blame his long, lean frame on genetics not the fact that he doesn't get junk food. Does he look healthy? Is he running around constantly? He's fine.

What is the one thing someone can say about you/your parenting that instantly makes your blood boil?

Saturday, March 24, 2012

How Not To Ruin Easter For Your Child

This is a sponsored post - but it's more of a community service announcement
about how NOT to tell your kids about the Easter Bunny. You're welcome.

You know how you have those defining moments in your life that you can recall back in vivid detail like it was yesterday? Well the Easter of 1988 was one of those defining moments for me...

I don't have access to a squiggly fade and airy music, so you'll just have to picture that for yourself while I stare dreamily off in to space as is the norm for any flashback.

Picture a six year old (adorable) Glow waking on Easter morning full of excitement. There was no sluggish yawning and stretching like there is now, it was instantaneous waking and bolting to the lounge room in my truly, truly outrageous Gem jimjams to see if the Easter Bunny had been.

My eyes practically bulged out of my head at the sight of all the chocolate and the giant bites out of the carrot we'd left out for him. HE HAD BEEN!!! HE HAD BEEN!!!

Brightly coloured foil covered eggs in a basket, a chocolate rabbit and... oh my... a note!

I picked it up carefully and examined it the little card. A hand drawn carrot on the front and inside it read:

"Dear Glow,
I love carrots! Yum!
Love The Easter Bunny" 

My face sank, there was a problem... it was my mother's handwriting.

Instantly I became a sobbing mess as it dawned on me that if the Easter Bunny wasn't real, then maybe, just maybe, that fat bloke at Christmas wasn't real either.

I was devastated. Easter was ruined (well for five minutes before I was distracted with the chocolate).

Let my (fluffy bunny cotton) tail tale of woe be a lesson to you. DO NOT write letters from The Easter Bunny yourself if your child is old enough to recognize your writing. Instead, you can get coupons for great Easter bargains like personalized mugs, Easter baskets and, more importantly, personalized letters from the Easter Bunny!

Do not ruin Easter, find online codes here and learn from my mother's mistake.
Nyeerrrr, what's up, Blog?

How did you find out about the Easter Bunny? Or have I just ruined Easter for you with this post?

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