Community

A few years ago when I was pregnant with Matthew and thousands of miles from home, I realized I had no real community around me. Aside from the occasional chat with a neighbour and a few work colleagues, I had no friends in the city. I decided something had to change.

I needed people.

With a little effort I was lucky enough to meet a group of women at just the right time - all of us pregnant with our first children. We quickly became close friends, meeting every week with our new babies and our under-eye bags and our stories.

Seriously, God knows what I would have done without them these past few years.

I've never been good at asking for things. I'm still not. I like to project an I-don't-need-any-help-I-can-do-it-on-my-own-thank-you-very-much image. It wasn't until I was forced to admit I needed help that I finally did.

Even then, I was all... no no I'll be okay, I can still drive across the city, pick up groceries and make dinner for everyone despite not having slept for two weeks...

Then someone smacked me upside the head and said Sarah, guess what? You're not Superwoman!

When I gave birth to Oliver 19 months later, having a community around me became even more important. I needed people even more this time. I needed favours. I needed friends to talk to on the phone when I was having a really bad day. I couldn't do it alone.

Despite my natural desire to be self-reliant, I gave in to needing people, to needing a community. And when I needed them, they were there, dropping off dinners, bringing coffee, watching the kids so I could nap, helping me out in whatever way they could.

I was overwhelmed by their kindness. And it changed me.

I realized that being this independent, disconnected person wasn't as great as I'd imagined.

Then earlier this year I stumbled into another community - the blogging community. If I'd known there were so many great connections and friends to be made I would have been here years ago.

(Only problem with the blogging friends I've made is, they live too bloody far away from me! One day, with luck, I'll meet some of you for a coffee or a martini.)

Last week I witnessed scores of bloggers pull together for Anissa Mayhew. I've never met Anissa, but over the last week I've come to know her through all of the wonderful posts, tweets and messages people have written about her.

Isn't it amazing? I don't know Anissa, and it doesn't matter. Technology has allowed me to sit at home in my pajamas and think about some small way I might be able to help her family - even if it's just a prayer to start with.

Friends of Anissa, and people that don't even know her, are coming together to help, because that's what communities do.

If this year has taught me one thing, it's that community is so, so important. Because people need people. And because there's nothing like the feeling of being able to help someone else when they need it most. And because if I can pass on this lesson to my kids, then they too will grow up being part of something good.

The Teenage Toddler

Remember when you were a teenager and your parents would try to be cool or funny and say things like "groovy!" and "snazzy!" and you would look at them with that blank stare that teenagers are so good at and roll your eyes, hoping no one else was there to witness your embarrassment?

Remember that?

Well apparently we're not waiting for the teen years here. We're starting. Right. Now. Toddler style. With a side of slouch and sarcasm.

I noticed this new teen toddler behaviour the other day when I was singing to Avril Levigne in the car. We were going through downtown and I was belting out "Keeeeep Hooolding Oo-oo-oon. Cus you know we'll make it through we'll make it through..."

When I heard a somber little voice from the back of the car.

"Mama."

I carried on since I was driving.

"Juuuuust staa-aay stro-oo-oong"

Then I heard it again as we pulled up to the lights.

"Mama." His voice was quite serious.

I turned to look at him. His deadpan expression told me he was not impressed with my singing.

"No Mama." He said very seriously and then turned to look out the window.

I laughed to myself. It was kind of cute and amusing to see him expressing his distaste. And then, pushing my luck, I continued, a little louder.

"Nothin' you can do. Nothin' you can say. There's no other way-"

And simultaneously he began barking his orders.

"Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! No Mama! No Mama!"

As I pulled into a parking spot I caught sight of Matthew giggling to himself despite his sincerity.

That's when I realized, I'm so going to be an embarrassing mum. I just hope he can still laugh about it when he's fourteen.

This meme is going to be so good you'll want to eat it.

@PartyMummy said if I didn't do her meme she was going to spread nasty rumors about me. So okay alright then.

1. Name someone with the same birthday as you. Gianni Versace and Maria Callas. Stylish and talented people were born on that day.

2. Where was your first kiss? In Italy. I was 14 and the Italian boy I was making "friends" with launched himself at me without warning and tried to suck my tongue from my head. My Dad proceeded to chase him around the vineyard with a stick.

3. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property? What the hell kind of question is that? I'm a laydee.

4. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex? I once lobbed a hairbrush at an ex-boyfriend when I was mad. It missed him and dented the wall. Lucky for him he was fast.

5. Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people? Yes. Too many times.

6. What's the first thing you notice about your preferred sex? Their mood.

7. What really turns you off? Long toenails.

8. What do you order at Starbucks? A non-fat latte, a kid's milk and a piece of banana loaf.

9. What is your biggest mistake? Not consuming enough chocolate and wine.

10. Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose? Does having a baby count?

11. Say something totally random about yourself. I would rather cut off my hair than be stuck on a desert island without lip balm.

12. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? Sophie Ellis-Baxter and Martine McCutcheon (I think they wanted something from me).

13. Do you still watch kiddie movies or TV shows? I like Disney Pixar movies. But don't put Max & Ruby near me for the love of God.

14. Did you have braces? No.

15. Are you comfortable with your height? Yes. I'm 5'8".

16. What is the most romantic thing someone of the preferred sex has done for you? My husband is pretty cool. He'll let me lie in at the weekend and has driven to restaurants at unreasonable times of the night to satisfy my pregnancy cravings. Awww.

17. When do you know it's love? When your partner listens to you talking seductive pirate talk for too long at bedtime and doesn't make you sleep on the sofa or try to muffle you with a pillow.

18. Do you speak any other languages? French pas tres bien zut alors.

19. Have you ever been to tanning salon? Yes. Once years ago. I lay there thinking, what the hell am I doing? Then got up and never went back.

20. Have you ever ridden in a limo? No. It's not an ambition of mine.

21. What's something that really annoys you? Victoria's Secret ads.

22. What's something you really like? Winning the lottery.

23. Can you dance? No.

24. Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room? No.

25. Tag 5 people!

@MetropolitanMum
@SeattleDad
Mwa
@ewiller
@maternaltales

10 reasons not to wait until you're thinner to buy new clothes.

I was at a playgroup this morning, chatting with a bunch of mums. One of them commented that she wore the same thing all the time because she still had baby weight to loose and didn't want to waste money on new clothes until the weight was gone. We all - every single one of us in the room - laughed understandingly. We've all been in that situation.

Well. I say enough of this silliness.

Enough waiting for the left-over baby weight to disappear. Enough imagining you'll wake up two sizes slimmer in the morning. And let's face it - the holidays are coming. And who the hell looses weight over the holidays? Not me. I usually gain three pounds from all the cookies and plum pudding with brandy butter.

My friends might confirm that I'm rather persuasive. If I'm shopping with you, I will find 101 reasons why you should definitely buy the thing you've got your eye on. Honestly, I'm relentless.

So, here are my 10 reasons why you should stop waiting and buy yourself a new outfit this week.

1. The idea that you're wasting money buying clothes because you're going to loose weight is silly (unless you honestly are). Be realistic - how long is it going to take you to reach your ideal weight? Me? Well, let's see... ideally I'd like to be my pre-baby weight again (10 lbs less) and then another 10 lbs would be nice. So that would be, um, about a year? Am I going to wait a whole miserable year to buy myself something? Nope.

2. Oh yes you do deserve it! I often feel like I'll deserve new clothes when I've lost weight. No! No no no. You deserve them now.

3. Never mind that those old stores you used to shop in make you look like a stuffed potato. Sod them and their skinny bitch clothes. Find another store with proper sizes.

4. Shopping is also time off for you. Tell your family you will need a couple of hours to go shopping alone, then, as well as the treats, you'll get a little time to yourself, which is almost as good as the treat itself.

5. Shopping needn't cost a fortune. Like the woman in my playgroup this morning, I don't like spending a lot on something temporary. But these days there are lots of places to buy clothes inexpensively - outlets, concessions stores and even superstores. You just need to do a little hunting around.

6. Starbucks. Because obviously you can't make a coherent choice without a latte.

7. If you really really insist on not buying new clothes, accessories work too. And accessories will fit you whatever size you are. And who doesn't love bags, scarves, shoes, sunglasses, brooches, bracelets, hats, etc?

8. You'll be doing a great service to charities that need clothes when you hand over your garments that no longer fit in a year's time.

9. The thrill. You know - the feeling you get when you pay for that pretty thing and walk away with it in your bag? Don't deprive yourself just because of a few lousy pounds.

10. And most importantly. New clothes are good for your health. It's true I tell you! (but don't quote me on that) When I wear new clothes, I feel better about myself, and therefore I start taking better care of myself - what I eat, drink, etc., and eventually this good cycle begins to start to rub off on my overall health. No really!

Image from www.everydaypeoplecartoons.com

When companies masquerade as friends.

Lots of us proudly display the Blog With Integrity badge on our blogs. And we've seen the new FTC regulations. And as a parent blogger, or mum blogger, or whatever you want to call me (I'm not fussy), I've a pretty good sense of what's acceptable content for my blog and what's not.

I don't gush about a product and fail to mention I've been paid to do so. I don't rave about something that truthfully sucks because I'm being compensated. I don't lie to my readers. (oh, um, except maybe sometimes regarding age and weight... forgive me?)

It's quite clear to me how to blog with integrity.

But for some there is still concern that the lines between honest blogging and advertising are blurry. Especially when it comes to companies plying bloggers with fancy trips and free stuff in the hopes they'll share positive product reviews with their thousands of followers.

As the LA Times article noted yesterday, this type of marketing is shrewd, yes. It's advertising in a nontraditional sense.

But I for one don't find it confusing.

The bloggers who attended the Nestlé event told us they were going and why. And therefore I wasn't surprised when I saw tweets and blog posts about the event and about Nestlé products.

For the record I don't like Nestle. I decided years ago not to buy their products after reading about the company's shady operations with regard to infant formula in the third world. You know the story by now if you didn't before.

But anyway, my point is, I didn't find it confusing. I knew the bloggers were attending an event intended to promote a brand.

And quite frankly if Cadbury's invited me to a weekend of chocolate eating, fancy hotels and naked slaves... oh wait that's my fantasy, what was I saying? and wonderful alone time, do you think I'd say no because I blog with integrity? Hell no. I'd tell you folks about it, and then I'd hop on that plane and head for the chocolate. Obviously.

I don't find it confusing when companies ask influential bloggers to attend lavish events in the hopes they'll tell their followers about it.

Nor do I find it confusing when bloggers talk about the details of an event they're attending or a product they're reviewing.

You know what I DO find confusing?

Companies that masquerade as people, or worse - friends.

Recently I watched a company use Twitter to infiltrate the mum blogging community as "one of us". The tweeter in question acted like a friend, an individual, not like a company.

She expertly gathered a large following on Twitter, building camaraderie by talking about common parenting problems and asking for advice. The marketing was so subtle it was barely noticeable.

I'm referring to the tweeter who's goal was to promote a film about a mom blogger...

The film's overall marketing campaign was very creative, enlisting popular mom bloggers to help promote the movie. The bloggers involved were open and honest about their participation and I respect them for that. I have no issue with this aspect of the movie's marketing strategy.

When the film came out in late October, and the job promoting it on Twitter was done, the tweeter - the brand - vanished. Friend and tweeter no more. Adios amigos.

You see, this is confusing, to me. Blurry.

Why?

Because when I cannot differentiate between a company marketing a product, and a friend, I have an issue.

I've seen other brands use social media to market to their audience in a more direct manner. They'll present special offers, discounts, sneak previews, reviews, contests. To me there's a big difference between this kind of open, honest advertising and the kind that involves pretending to be pals over tweets.

Something about it just doesn't sit right - the sneakiness of it, the dishonesty of behaving like a friend, holding real conversations about people's families, building fake relationships. All in the name of profit, not friendship.

I guess for me, advertising and friendship are two things that can never be combined.

But that's just my opinion. What do you think?

Facebook for Pirates

I've discovered a new way to enjoy Facebook. A way that stops me from gouging my eyes out when I read so-and-so person I was friends with fifteen years ago's status update that says something like "Fifi is going to the mall to look for some curtain hangers and then might have a sandwich at the mall and then is going to drive home and have a cup of tea and hopefully it won't rain today because she wants to hang her laundry out and also...". Cut.

Yes dudes, I know there's a way of blocking people, or their updates or whatever, but honestly I don't have the energy or inclination to work it out. So, usually I just hold my breath and scroll through the rubbish to get to my actual friends' updates, which I like. Because they're my actual fiends.

Anyway. The other day, I found a way to like Facebook. It happened by accident. Our computer malfunctioned and when I logged on to Facebook, everything was written in Pirate talk.

My profile said. Th' saucy wench Sarah be usin' Ye olde Facebook with the tongue o' English Pirate.

I knew immediately I was going to prefer this way to the old way.

What be troublin' ye? It asked me.

I be findin' this 'ere Facebook mighty vexin' like a son of a biscuit eater... I replied.

What be troublin' ye? It asked again.

I been a swashbucklin' with wenches all day and still there be no booty to see...

What be troublin' ye?

I done run out o' things pirate to say to ye now so get ye to the plank ye rascal scallywag.

Then it told me 15 shots o' rum ago, Cap'n Simon has had one too many.

This be pleasin' to my eye! I clicked in approval.

35 shots o' rum ago, Lady Brenda... likes her husband's meatballs.

Arrr! I clicked.

Thar be more... It said.

It asked me if I wanted to Scrawl upon 'er plank in reference to a long lost colleague. Much better than poking her.

Image from timtim.com

Unfortunately I'm incapable of letting go of things I'm amused by, and so continued my pirate renditions at bedtime. There was at least twenty minutes of smutty pirate jokes. Which apparently was a painfully long time. J told me my pirate accent was not a turn on because I sounded kind of like an English farmer from the West Country. Which - what the hell?


To turn Pirate English on, go to the bottom left of your Facebook page, click English (US or UK), and switch to English (Pirate).

Lady Mama's Résumé

It's been a long time since I've looked at my résumé. About five years. When I finally retrieved it from my hard drive the other day, I chuckled at the ambitious words I used to describe myself, the long list of skills and achievements, the many many jobs, the blow by blow account of my education. Really fascinating stuff.

Then I tried to re-write it, to bring it up to date. This is what I really wanted to write.

*************************************************************

Lady Mama's Résumé

Background

Started as corporate ladder climber, schmoozing clients (getting them drunk), wowing bosses with amazing business-winning talents (cleavage), strutting around with important looking documents (gossip rags wrapped in fax paper).

Then took short hiatus in career to raise children. Expanded vocabulary to include words to Dora The Explorer, developed amazing strength in upper arms from carrying babies and toddlers around all day, grew extra pair of eyes in back of head to catch children trying to pour nail varnish over dog - very useful for paying close attention to detail.

Skills

Fast worker: I can change a diaper in thirty seconds flat. Beat that.

Multi-tasker: I can cook dinner, wipe down surfaces, vacuum, hold a baby, talk on the phone, drink wine and email all at the same time. Impressive huh?

Efficient: I have honed my domestic skills to that of a 1950's housewife. Dinner on the table, house cleaned, slick of lipstick, children sweet and happy and ready to welcome daddy home. Yeah that one was a lie.

Not deterred by hard work: I have been up to my elbows in poo and pee and remained as steadfast as a soldier. Also, I have gone for months with no more than three hours of sleep at a time and still been able to recite the words to all the songs from The Sound of Music (my husband loves when I do that).

Positive attitude: I am as bright and breezy as a sunshiny day every morning when my kids force me to get up out of bed at 7 a.m. with their yelling.

Strategic thinker: I've devised a number of mummy-needs-quiet-time hiding places around my house: in the bathroom, in my closet, behind the couch, or in the laundry hamper if I curl up really small and don't move.

Salary expectation

If you give me a quiet office, an endless supply of coffee, a lunch break, and pay for childcare, I'll do it for near free.

References

Matthew or Oliver.

*************************************************************

Remembering them

I love these old photographs of my grandparents, taken during the war (WWII).

My Grandfather. Unfortunately I never met him, but I've heard
he was a wonderful man. I just know that I would have loved him lots.

Nana and Granddad on their wedding day.
I still miss you and think of you every day Nana. x

My Grandfather in Italy, 1946.

Marching Wrens (where my Nana served).

Today I remember those I knew and those I did not and those who died sacrificing their lives for our freedom.

You are not and never will be forgotten.

Domestically Deceptive

When it comes to household chores, I like short cuts. I detest housework and would rather spend my spare minutes emailing, blogging, twittering or googling things like "can I train my dog to make coffee?". And though I love taking the time to cook a proper dinner, it's sometimes too much work at the end of a long day.

So I thought I'd share some of my short cuts with you.


Pimp your food: Montreal steak seasoning.

Image from www.simplyorganicfoods.com

This product has saved dinner time from a drab death on a number of occasions this year. When I have lacked energy or inspiration, I've used steak seasoning on almost everything - chicken, beef, fish, vegetables. Add a side and, done.

I spent all day making this: Pasta sauce in a jar.

Image from www.formaggiokitchen.com

I always, without fail, have a bottled tomato sauce in my cupboard. If all else fails, I dump the jar over some pasta, make a quick salad and whamerelli - dinner.

It's-a not so bad, it's-a nice-a place: Frozen pizza.

Image from www.oetker.ca

Frozen pizza. So lazy and naughty, and yet so easy and tasty. That's why I figure that pizza with spinach, really, is a winner all round. It has spinach on it for gawd sake. Enough said.

Pong be gone: Lemons.

Image from beautifullyused.com

I always have lemons in my fridge. If I've been handling raw fish, I squeeze some lemons straight onto my hands, or straight onto any surface or even into the garbage and the smell is gone. Shazaa.

Grease your parts: Olive Oil.

Image from www.plomaricity.gr

I hate dry skin and am obsessed with always having hand cream and lip balm nearby. Especially in the kitchen where I'm washing my hands every other minute. My husband thinks I'm OCD but that's another story. If neither cream or balm are available, I use olive oil and it works very well.

Are you staring at those deodorant marks on my top? Baby wipes.

Image from www.greenbeginnings.co.uk

There's a reason to lug baby wipes around in your bag, other than bottom/face/hand wiping. Baby wipes miraculously remove those bastard little white streaks that appear on your clothes when you're frantically trying to get dressed before your deodorant has had time to dry because your kids are attempting to murder each other and the dog.


None of the pimping of products in this post was paid for in any way, shape or form.

This is why I don't shop with other people.

On Saturday J and I were presented with a rare opportunity to go out for the morning alone. Just us, no kids. And since we're about to enter the next phase of house renovations happy fun times, we decided to go in search of a new a sofa.

J and I have similar taste in furniture. We studied design at the same university in London and we share a love of modern, graphic prints and simple, clean lines. So usually, we're on the same page when it comes to furniture.

Usually.

But on Saturday I wasn't in the mood for modern. As we circuited the glossy showroom with its angular chairs and contemporary fabrics, all I could think was, bachelor pad bachelor pad bachelor pad. Not, family living room with kids and dogs and spills and tears and curling up on the sofa with a cup of tea and a book.

Damn suburban life - ruiner of good taste and style.

"I don't like anything."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing at all?"
"Nothing at all."

As we trekked around various other furniture stores, what followed was a string of stubbornness, pouting, sighing, shuddering, laughing, stomping. (All J.)

Here's the thing. I love shopping. Doesn't matter what for - clothes, shoes, coffee tables, books, earthenware casserole dishes, handbags, salt and pepper shakers, plastic containers - whatever. It's always the same contented feeling that results. The rush of satisfaction that the shiny new thing is mine. Mine! (Cackling)


It's a warm fuzzy happy jolly time.

But you know what's not such a fuzzy happy jolly time? Me shopping with other people. When I shop with other people, I am a bloody nightmare on hissy wheels.

Why am I a nightmare on hissy wheels?

Well.

1. I'm a selfish shopper. I don't want to be considerate while I'm shopping. I'm considerate in all other areas of life. Shopping is My Selfish Thing.

2. I'm unwaveringly definite about what I like and don't like.

3. If the product I love doesn't fit my budget, I say bugger the budget and get it anyway.

So, usually I shop solo. It's better that way.

But the sofa was a joint decision. So we went back and forth, each presenting our case for the best sofa. The sales staff stood back and watched as we negotiated and haggled (with each other).

And then finally the skies parted and we agreed on a sofa. A beautiful sofa that fit both of our requirements: modern and comfortable. One movies can be watched on underneath blankets. One guests will sit on after dinner. One I'll curl up on in the evening to relax after a long day.

So in the end, we worked it out.

But I'm choosing the cushions and the throw. On my own. Ha.



***My husband read this post and would like to point out that the final decision was not, in fact, a compromise, that actually I got my wretched way, as usual. And he added that he's going to take my advice about blowing the budget and spend twice what we agreed on a TV for the basement. Um.***