Branching out

Six months ago I was approached with a super secret squirrel offer. There were emails sent, notes taken and meetings attended. All of these were done under the cover of darkness and required a secret handshake and codenames. OK so maybe not, but it was under the strict instruction that I was to keep tight lipped about it all.

The urge to run around singing "I know something you don't know" was enormous. I can keep other people's secrets no problem, but something to do with myself? I feel like I'm going to burst! Luckily with the whole preggo thing there was no chance of getting a bit blabby after a few wines.

The enormous secret? That the Australian Writers' Centre was heading on over to the land of Sandgropers. The part where I come in that made it so hard to keep my over-sharing trap shut? Oh, nothing much, just ME teaching the Blogging for Beginners course. Me? ME! MEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I know, I was just as surprised as you are. Apparently relying on profanity to get your point across does not disqualify you from all things proper and writerly.

In what is no doubt a soul crushing blow to educators the world over, I am now technically a teacher and will be putting it right on top of my resume. I'm thinking of getting a teacher's desk to complete my transformation and I fully expect apples to be left on it (5S thanks).

I can also now be mentioned legitimately in the same sentence as some very fancy people I idolize such as Karen Edwards, Allison Tait, Valerie Khoo, Tim Gooding, Kim Berry, Kerri Sackville and Nicole Avery. And not just in a "Did you see that Glow was stalking Nicole again?" way but in a "They both teach classes at the Australian Writers' Centre" way.

Holy shit, I'm almost certain typing those words just caused me to have a small stroke. Mind = BLOWN!

There are some mighty big shoes to fill here, with my east coast counterparts being the divine Kim Berry and the inimitable Karen Andrews. The pressure! THE PRESSURE!!

Students of the class can rest assured that the content is not created by yours truly, merely delivered with a personal touch and an anecdote or two. And whilst I can't promise anything I will attempt to reign in my F bombs for the comfort of those pupils with delicate constitutions. It's just that I don't swear around my children so when they're out of earshot the words seize the opportunity and come tumbling out like Tourettes, not knowing when they'll get another chance.

If you've ever played with the idea of blogging then I'd definitely suggest you check out the course. Not just to ensure my future employment but because it is actually full of the things that will really help you start up a blog.

Bloggers: What did you wish you knew when you started your blog?
Non Bloggers: What is stopping you starting a blog?

So close and yet so far

I did it. I cracked the shits and moved out of the dustbowl. We're now living with my parents five minutes down the round.

I'm pretty sure my mum and dad's neighbours think I've left Map Guy. They saw me single handedly (MG was at work) hauling a couple of suitcases, kids, a still limping dog, a scooter and a computer in to the house, with tears threatening to roll down my face at any moment. Because the crazy is just under the surface right now and it bubbles up to the top for all to see a couple of times a day.

We are so close to being finished with the dusty, dirty side of the renos - quite possibly only a week or two left - but I just couldn't handle it any longer. Walking around with all our belongings piled up in corners, feeling grit under foot and seeing a fresh layer of dust over everything at the end of each day despite drop sheets and high powered professional vacuums to reduce it all.

Brick dust gets fucking everywhere. I think I hate it more than the sand and that is really saying something. At least with sand I can sweep or vacuum it up myself - this shit needs a professional vacuum or it explodes the motor. I don't even want to think about what it is doing to my kids' lungs if it can fuck up German engineering.

The other day our only livable space outside of the master bedroom became off limits as a new wall went up. Tricky's bed, which had been a mattress on the floor by night, then up against the wall by day so there was at least some room to move, now doesn't fit in the space. What will be the play room is currently looking like an op shop with all the furniture crammed in there. I was climbing over a coffee table and tripping over a block trolley to get the kids clothes every morning. And when you're as anxious as I am right now, it doesn't make for the best start to the day. Plus it smells like cement and is covered in bloody brick dust.

Dusty and old (with blue rectangle of doom)

But amongst the woe is me attitude there is always time to stop and think of those less fortunate. Like the people who lived there when that wall was blue. We moved the aircon unit the other day and the thought on everyone's mind was who the hell chose that blue? Oh right, probably my dad. 

So we really had no choice but to leave for this last part. Because dust and a rectangle of horrid blue means the place isn't fit for human habitation right now.

Instead of living in grime we've chosen the lesser of two evils and are now living out of suitcases. And even though it is my parents house and I can help myself to food, have my kids looked after and even get my washing done if I want (and I do want), I still can't relax. I'm itching to get home even though when we get there it will still need painting, a floor and furniture. But at least I'll be able to walk around in my undies if I want (and I do want), without worrying that the neighbours are going to see me.

Shiny and new!

It's the biggest first world problem around, but bloody hell, I'm really struggling with all of this. The bookies wouldn't take your bet on whether I'll end up in the loony bin because it is almost a sure thing. But whilst in said loony bin you can bet I'd be wagging therapy to check out Pinterest to figure out how to decorate my new lounge room. Because PRIORITIES.

I'm clicking my heels together and chanting that there's no place like home but so far all that has happened is that my shoes are showing signs of wear and I'm tripping over my own feet (related: must buy new shoes). I'm hoping that taking a step away these last few weeks will stop me tipping completely over the edge. Now if only Tricky would stop being so sad that we're not seeing our builders daily.

10 steps to the perfect Christmas tree

This is a S1 post

For full details please see my disclosure policy

It is nearly Christmas. You’ll already know this because people have been posting those “it’s x days til Christmas” memes on Facebook since October and the decorations are filtering in to the stores. Pretty soon you won’t be able to go anywhere without tripping over some tinsel. This means it is time to put up your own Christmas Tree! Here’s my simple ten point guide to putting up the perfect Christmas tree:

1. Pick a pine. Small or large? Standard green or will you go for something funkier like the BIG W black Christmas tree? Be careful, once you go black…

2. Scheme your theme. I’m a rainbow gal myself but I think ombre trees will be all the rage this year.

3. Tune in.Whack on the Christmas Carols - you cannot go wrong with the Bube. Mmmmm mmmmm Santa Bay-by!

4. Tilt up the trunk. Plop it in the middle of the room and go for it. It’s almost all done for 0you before you even take it out of the box so it won’t take long. Have a vacuum handy for stray pine needles.

5. Light it up, baby. Test the lights before you put them on! Then start at the bottom with the transformer/controller and walk around the tree winding the lights all the way up. Since you were so clever and put the tree in the middle of the room this should be super easy. Except for the whole so dizzy you fall over bit. We used the 200 LED starter set from BIG W because they use very little energy (I spend enough at Christmas time as it is, I don’t need a huge power bill too) and because you can add on extra globes later.

6. Tinsel time. As above but with tinsel. Make sure you honour the time honoured tradition of using it as an impromptu feather boa. Take a selfie.

7. Location, location, location. Now you’ve finished with the lights and tinsel, put your pine prince where you actually want it to sit. This way you only have to decorate the visible side, saving valuable egg-nog drinking time. Plus you get to hide the ugly decorations from Aunt Gertrude around the back without feeling guilty because hey, you did actually put them on the tree.

8. Beads and baubles and bling, oh my! Make it fancy. If you’ve got small children helping you let them know that putting all the baubles on one branch isn’t really ideal. When they do it anyway, just move them when they’re not looking.

9. Skirt around the issue. Pop a tree skirt on to make it ultra fancy or grab some material if you don’t have one. That nice skirt that doesn’t fit you anymore that is still shoved at the back of the wardrobe will work well.

10. Top it like it’s hot. Angel or star? This year I’ve gone for the BIG W LED star because at night all lit up the star is always missing! This way the whole thing is a-glow. And I’ve got a thing about things being Glowless, ya know.

I went and asked some unsuspecting shoppers at my local BIG W what had to be on their tree this year:

Win $100 to spend at BIG W by telling me your

top Christmas tree decorating tip.

 To make it easy for everyone to enter you can either leave a comment using Disqus, use the entry form or comment on Facebook. Or do all three! Best answer wins. Full Ts and Cs here.

Competiton is now closed

Dear Me...

Dear Me circa June/July 2010,

Brand new baby? Check.
Set of boobs? Check.
Read everything ever written about the benefits of mama’s milk? Check.
Steely determination to reap said benefits? Check.
Supportive partner? Check.
Smooth sailing breastfeeding? Erm, lemme get back to you on that one.

Oh, Glow, look at you. You’ve got that new mama look about you – the sleepy but serene look of someone so in love. You’re also got that weird crick neck thing going on from looking at your beautiful babe for hours on end – the books never warn you about that one, it hurts after a while so remember to swap arms.

You’re about to embark on a journey that at the time will seem like an endless slog of long painful nights, but in reality, it is only a blip on the radar. I’m talking about your first few weeks and months of breastfeeding.

There will be hurdles. Oversupply. Thrush. Golden Staph (don’t worry, it doesn’t look gross). Pain. They will seem insurmountable in your sleep deprived state. You’ll sit there at night thinking “just one more week” but not really be sure what you mean by it. One more and you’ll give up? Or one more and it will all be alright?

And then, one day you’ll stop and think “Hey, it feels OK. I wonder when that happened?” When it stopped being a chore and started being beautiful. And you won’t be able to pinpoint it exactly, but somewhere, after not too long, it just all started working. Which is so great because not only is looking at chubby star fish hands patting your breast while a toothless grin erupts over your child’s face (never dropping the nipple!) just adorable, but you’re more than a bit lazy and very forgetful so we all know you’d suck at remembering bottles and would complain endlessly about washing them.

One day, not far from now, when it has become second nature for you both, you will barely remember the hassles. No, really. I know you’re struggling right this second, dreading the next feed, but time goes so fast. Trust me. It will be fantastic when you get the right advice from a lactation consultant. 

It’s important, though, to not hinge your worthiness as a parent on this fabulous milk producing malarkey your mammaries are capable of. Because when you become unwell for a few days and experience a massive drop in supply you’ll feel like a failure. And well, that’s just a bit bloody stupid.

Your aim, to get to twelve months? Girl, you’ve got that shit covered and then some so don’t stress. In fact, you’re going to feed your first born for almost triple that. Thirty two months. Some people will call you all sorts of names for doing it, but you need to trust in yourself and what you know about sustained breastfeeding and its benefits. Surround yourself with supportive people and ignore the naysayers.

But in saying that, remember to respect each mama’s right to choose how and when she feeds her precious bundle and for god’s sake share some of that abundant milk supply around to others who need it and become a milk donor sooner rather than later. Seriously, girl, your boobs don't fit in any tops, do it now.

Happy breastfeeding.

Love Glow x

P.S. Then you'll do it all again and with that bit of confidence, you'll jump the hurdles so much quicker. Believe in yourself and believe in the power of the BOOB!

What would you tell your new mama self about breastfeeding?

This post is part of the Dear Me series being run to promote the new Online Breastfeeding Cafe. Developed by the Australian Breastfeeding Association, this new initiative aims to target women who may feel ambivalent about breastfeeding and encourage them to share, discover and chat about breastfeeding via a supportive online forum and resource centre. You can also check out the Online Breastfeeding Cafe's Facebook page.

Tricky and Treat. We did Halloween and loved it.

This is the first year we've celebrated Halloween. Previous years I've had a handful of chocolates to give out for the one or two Trick or Treaters than came by but we've never gone out ourselves because Tricky had no understanding of it.

This year he was so in to it. He loved seeing the spiders and skeletons popping up in the shops and was participating in things for the first time so we ran with it, doing Halloween craft every day, creating decorations for our house. Strongly American influenced? Yes, but it didn't start there and even if it did, so what? We happily take all their other cultural influences, why the big fuss over this? Overly commercial? Definitely. But so is Christmas and I celebrate that despite being a card carrying atheist.

Last night, a group of 15 kids and their parents met at our neighbour's house and together we walked house to house in our street, respecting those who did not wish to be door knocked and not "tricking" them. Some of the houses we visited had one parent home and one walking with us, so that the kids had more places to go.

It was great to chat to our neighbours. We're "wave friends". I don't know all of their names, but we always wave hello when we drive past or if we see each other at the shops. We've had a street Christmas Party before and this was just the same except in place of sausages on a BBQ it was lollies in a bag.

I loved seeing Tricky's confidence grow at each house. It is hard work for him to be around other kids, he gets very nervous, so to see him interacting with a bunch of kids he has never played with  before was amazing. He needed some encouraging along the way and a few times he hung back and asked to hold hands again, but then he'd charge off again and walk with the bigger kids.

Watching the bigger kids make sure the little ones all got a treat was brilliant. Yes, it was all about getting lollies but it wasn't at the expense of others not getting them. They'd usher the younger ones forward and if they were too timid to go, they'd hand a treat back for them. And they all had fabulous manners - the little ones didn't even need reminding because they would hear the big kids saying thank you and follow suit. It was amazing to watch.

I'm not scared to walk our neighbourhood. Not even at night. It isn't the best area, but I know crime statistics show it is very unlikely to be attacked by a stranger. I love an area with a thriving community and if Halloween can help bring that sense of community, make people get to know their neighbours and not feel scared to walk around, which it definitely did last night, then I'm all for it.

We'll be doing it again next year.