I can now add public speaking to my resume... If I had a resume

This weekend, because I'm the shy and retiring type, I spoke on stage about the rise of the all powerful pros and cons of being a parent blogger at the Media 140 Digital Family Day with Catherine Archer from Curtin University and Lani from Missy Boo. Mum Bloggers represent!

I was nervous despite the fact that I spoke on stage at the Digital Parents Conference - a little bit during the day and then again during The Mother Tongue at dinner - but that was in front of a room full of people who already "knew me". And by that I mean they may have watched a vlog or two and known not to expect too much.

Clockwise from top left: My tweet on the giant screen, Tricky being chased by Boo,
MC Bonnie & Boo, Mrs Wonders & I, Boo getting catty

Instead, I was quietly crapping myself because this was in front of an audience who had no clue who I was, bar Map Guy and The Wonder Couple who came out to show their support and try their hand at toddler wrangling in the rain.

Oh I didn't mention the rain? Yes, the city that seems to be in constant drought with major water restrictions decided that the day of an outdoor event would be perfect timing for the heavens to open up and piss down on us while we were on stage holding microphones. Microphones connected to electricity.

Unfortunately, said rain also kept a lot of people away. Probably because everyone forgot how to drive as soon as the wet stuff started coming from the sky and went around yelling "the sky is falling, the sky is falling".

Clockwise from top left: Lani, myself and Catherine on stage, Boo being shy,
my speakers badge, Map Guy & Tricky on the beanbags

I have already forgotten what I said, other than when asked if Mum Bloggers were influential I said "Yeah, my husband buys what I tell him to" (oh hai head, meet desk, kthxbai) but apparently, according to my friends, I was charming and witty. And they would *ahem* never lie to me just to stroke my ego. I choose to remember it that way anyway, and ignore the fact that the freak storm coming in meant a few people left mid-talk and the head organizer had to stand behind the backdrop holding it up to ensure it wouldn't get blown on to us (thanks, Ande!).

The highlight of the day for me would have to be when an audience member, the gorgeous Tif, came up to Lani and I afterwards to thank us and have a chat about blogging and how some people just don't get why we put our lives out there online. Because that's what it's all about, meeting new people and having awesome conversations.

Why do you put your life online?

The Weekend Whine - Episode One

Soooo this might fill the void that is FlogYoBlog Friday (now that it's moved on to Grace). But on a Saturday. And then again it might not. I haven't decided yet.

Thoughts?





What have you whined about this week?

FlogYoBlog Friday: The Final Edition

How to FlogYoBlog FOR THE LAST TIME WITH GLOW

1. Follow Where's My Glow? for the last time with Glow
2. Bow down at the alter of Mummy Time; Blog-goddess, all round groovy gal and creator of FYBF for the last time with Glow
3. Grab the FYBF button and post it on your sidebar or in the post you're linking up for the last time with Glow
4. Link in your favourite/best post from the week (don't just put your homepage URL) for the last time with Glow
5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger then be nice and spread the comment love for the last time with Glow

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ANZAC & PTSD: Acronyms that go together in my world

There are some things I don't handle very well. ANZAC Day is one of them. I've been in a pretty bad place lately (hence the rather quiet blog), and having this day fall right when I'm at a low point is doing my head in. It's panic attack central here and I've spent five hours in bed today trying to avoid the world. It didn't really work, when I got up the world was right there waiting for me. Bastard.

The internet, television and newspapers are full of stories today - of the men and women who fought for our country, of those that never came back, and those that waited at home for them, thinking every time the phone rang it was going to be that call.

What you don't hear too much of, is the stories of after the war. What happens to those highly trained soldiers who have seen battle when they come back home and try to fit in to a society that doesn't always understand them? What happens to their family? Their kids?

For me, ANZAC Day is a giant flag, waved in front of my face to mock me, to remind me how fucked up the children of soldiers can be, how hard life as the daughter of a soldier who served in the Vietnam War was and still is.

I'm not trying to over generalize, but it's a widely known fact that a lot of soldiers tend to come home rather damaged. Really, how could you not? Fighting on the front lines, seeing limbs blown off, holding your friend as he takes his last breath. That damages. Right to the core. Often beyond repair.

I was part of a counseling group specifically for children of Vietnam Veterans a few years back and even though we were from such varied backgrounds; different socioeconomic groups, different religions, different ages... we all had identical stories.

From the shoes so highly polished you could see your reflection in them to the nightmares and the trauma.

From the school shirts ironed to within an inch of their life to the constant yelling, violence and alcoholism.

From the regimented schedule to the constant walking on eggshells, unsure of what was going to happen next.

Growing up like that? That damages. Right to the core. Often beyond repair. 

We were all the same. We were all living in dysfunctional households and we were all fucked up because of it, having all been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from living under such conditions for so long.

You can leave certain things behind when you leave your parents' house; dolls, posters of teenage crushes, school reports and the like. You can't leave your PTSD behind though. That shit comes with you everywhere.

So here I sit, many years later, with PTSD still slumping my shoulders and dictating my daily life, watching the footage of our war heroes. I thank them for their service, for all they did... and then I cry for their kids... and, I'm loath to admit, I cry a little bit for myself, too.

Do you wish you could leave behind something when you left home?

I feel I should add that in the last few years my Dad, who was spat at on his return from the Vietnam War, where he fought on behalf of all of us in a war nobody supported, has healed immensely and we now, thankfully, have a very good relationship. However, it doesn't detract from the fact that for the first 28 years of my life I lived in constant fear of him. I love him, more than words can say. He is, by far, Tricky's favourite person and I firmly believe kids have excellent judgement.

Do not assume

Do not assume that because I am an atheist that I have no morals or faith.

Do not assume that because I dislike confrontation that I will not stick up for myself.

Do not assume that because I am smiling that I am happy.

Do not assume that because I share a lot through social media that I have no secrets.

Do not assume that because I am broken that I will let you treat me like a door mat.

Do not assume that because I am a mother that I have no interest in anything other than child rearing.

Do not assume that because I wear makeup that I am vain.

Do not assume that because I am a SAHM that I spend all day colouring in and going out for coffee.

Do not assume that because I am pro-breastfeeding that I am anti-formula.

Do not assume that because I have lots of friends that I'm not lonely.

Do not assume that because I am outgoing that I am not insanely anxious.

What do people assume about you?