11/30/2016

i suck...

I have finally come to the realisation that I am never going to not suck at life. Never.

I will always have Doritos dust on my clothes.

I will always have nail polish smudged on my toes in places where nail polish does not belong.

I will always go days without brushing my hair.

I will always hate wearing a bra.

I will always miss long strips of prickly hair while shaving my legs despite shaving every inch of them with a razor.

I have tried to not be this way. For like a second and a half but still... I made the effort and I just couldn't be a groomed person with no orange cheesy dust on them. It's too hard.

11/29/2016

thankyou coffee body scrub review


I'm still not sure if this review is a rant or rave. See, on one hand, I do adore this Thankyou Body Scrub. It works wonderfully well and doesn't tear at my skin or leave it dry and itchy. On the other hand it smells terribly and looks like you used a coffee enema and then had diarrhea in the shower. It makes a mess and so, really, can only be used once a week {on shower cleaning day} and, yet, it leaves skin feeling lovely.

So what's a girl to do? Not buy a coffee scrub when she detests the smell of coffee perhaps? Who knows. I am determined to use up the entire tub of this lovely scrub but I am not sure I'll repurchase it. I do adore it but I also adore a non-coffee poop looking shower. Am I making any sense? Nobody will ever know.

Thankyou's Coffee Body Scrub is made with cold-pressed macadamia oil and fair trade coffee. It's not tested on animals and, apparently, has a scent of botanical geranium and rosewood {who knew?} There is no scent other than vomitous coffee, let's be honest here. When you open the lid you're hit with the dreadful pong and a product that has formed into balls so you can finally know what it would feel like to rub coffee-scented sheep crap onto your body.

I say it's a versatile body scrub because it can be used as -- a) a coffee scrub {duh!} or b) a practical sheep poop centered joke.

All joking aside, I do like the scrub for how it works but it certainly doesn't win any favours when your kid sees you using it/your Husband rubbing it into your back and screams "mum why are you rubbing poo all over your body? that's gross!" 

So... it's a wonder on dry skin but it's gross.

It scrubs and hydrates but it's gross.

It's affordable and really works but it's gross.

See the dilemma?

If you want to try it for yourself {and I kind of, maybe, recommend you do} you can pick it up from Woolworths. It's worth a try but you have been warned.

11/28/2016

on compliments...

Here's a weird confession for you -- there is only one compliment I can stand and it goes a little something like this:

I like your dress!

Thanks, it has pockets!

That's it. I have never been more serious in my life. Compliments make me uncomfortable. Itchy. Anxious. I know, I know, I have low self-esteem but here's the thing I'm never going to feel deserving of positive affection. It just never feels right to me, as if I don't feel as though I was born to be loved. I say that I'm awesome a lot and I do, honestly, believe that {I mean, hello, have you met me?} but, also, I feel as though I belong in the most despised ranks of the world, just hanging with Hitler and Trump. 

No amount of compliments and love is ever going to make me feel different. I am always going to be the weirdo that hates being called beautiful or funny {even though I am hilarious} or smart. Ugh, especially that last part. And don't even get me started on compliments on my writing. Just stop now.

I was that annoying kid in school who, when I received full marks on something, would go up to the teacher and ask if they had made a mistake. Because I felt like one giant mistake, someone who didn't belong here, someone who wasn't worthy of life. And while compliments are supposed to reinforce the idea that I am loved and valued, they don't, not with me. They serve as a reminder that my mind is never going to be right. That I can never feel normal. That I'm never going to be able to wake up and feel unconditional love. I will always be the person who remembers telling her parents she didn't feel loved by them and being mocked instead of consoled and helped. My mind is programmed to believe that everything is wrong with me and I am unworthy because of it.

Compliments remind me that I am always going to be that scared, unloved, girl. And, so, I hide behind sarcasm and self-deprecation, partly because I like that kind of humour, but, mostly, because I really do believe all those things I say "jokingly" about myself.

And, now, if the world could learn to only compliment me when I'm wearing a dress with pockets well, then, I'd imagine life would be pretty wonderful... wouldn't it?

11/25/2016

friday five//fave gilmore girls moments

Oh hello, happy Gilmore Girls day!

In honour of the revival on Netflix {which better not break my fucking heart} I've made a list of five of my favourite GG moments {but let's be honest, all the moments are the greatest. If you do not love this show then I think you're a fool} --

The four Thanksgivings. I just adore the dysfunction, the food, Luke's sweet little dejected face and Mr's Kim. If there's one thing that Gilmore Girls does to me {aside from making me talk faster than usual} it is making me crave burgers and fries, Chinese food and pizza. Food is such a central part of the show and I'm sure most fans have wished/hoped/dreamed that they could eat like a Gilmore while still looking like a Gilmore. Also, don't tell me that it's not a coincidence that the revival falls on Thanksgiving weekend and there's four of them.  

1000 yellow daisies. Sure, the marriage never happens and there's totally more than 1000 but it was such a wonderfully romantic proposal wasn't it? If I were the grand gesture kind this would be my dream one and since daisies are my favourite flower I just fall in love with this scene every time I see it.

Let's face facts, Paul Anka is basically the star of the show as soon as he turns up. Just look at him! He's such a little weirdo and I adore his quirks. Yet, my favourite Paul Anka moments are the simplest, him just sitting at the table like the awesome dog-human hybrid he is. Also, the fact he's scared of everything makes him my spirit animal.

This birthday tradition. It makes my heart ache because I always wanted moments like that with my own mother but I still adore the sweetness here. And now I know I could, perhaps, have moments like these with B. and that makes me ridiculously happy.

My favourite gesture of the entire show. The most romantic. The sweetest. I just... Seriously, when is someone going to make an ice skating rink at my house for me? And, yes, please ignore the fact that ice skates scare the crap out of me because I still need this to happen in my life. I also need that scarf. And Loreali's hair. Can someone also see to that please? Thanks.

*

But, honestly, who is actually reading this? It's the fucking revival. Go!

11/24/2016

that married life//lindsay the lampshade

Once upon a time before Husband was Husband we had a huge fight. It was one of those ridiculous non-fights with shouting but without any real anger behind it. For as long as we'd been dating we'd called each other "babe" which I detested with a passion and, so, somewhere in this ridiculous non-tiff wasteland, we drove past a homemaker center and a picture of a chandelier. Filled with rage {probably because he thought he was right which is silly because I'm always right} I decided he needed a new nickname/term of endearment. Yet, since he was being such a fuck knocker I decided he didn't deserve to be a fancy chandelier. So I screamed something like: "listen lampshade!" at him which immediately diffused any tension and the nickname just stuck.

He eventually decided that I needed to be a household object so he began calling me "teapot" {mostly because I adore tea and teapots}. 

Now, years on, marriage and a hobo child under our belts, our nicknames have, again, evolved. He is my Danza {my Tony Danza, if you will} because of the common mishearing of the lyrics to Tiny Dancer and if you think about it the lyrics: hold me closer Tony Danza are pretty wonderful and pretty telling of our relationship. He, on the other hand, calls me chicken or chook. I have no idea why. He has told me numerous times of the origins of this name, however, I have forgotten {as I am want to do}. I reason that it's either a) because I am scared of every single thing or b) have chicken legs. Regardless, I do adore his new name for me {particularly because I despise my actual first name}. It also warms the coldest corners of my heart when I hear B. calling for me with "chook" or "chicken" in her sweet little sing-song voice.

And now, I wonder, in another 11 years together will these nicknames stick? Or will we call each other something else entirely? I hope not because if there's ever been a more perfect name for this Husband of mine it is Danza. He's one of very few people who I like to touch me, who I can feel comfortable enough wrapping my arms around and just hugging completely, who can hold me closer...

11/23/2016

watch//we need to talk about game of thrones

This may be one of the stupidest things I ever written but -- I started watching Game of Thrones while Husband was away on business. I missed the stupid fucker terribly and since he loves Game of Thrones I just wanted to feel closer to him. I also, kind of, wanted to see his face light up when he knew I had started it and fallen in love but...

Well...

I like it. It's fine. But there's too many animals dying and I can't watch that and not see Minnie. So there's that. But I've been trying really hard lately to just push through the things that make me anxious or PTSD-y. So I kept on watching... I almost had a nervous breakdown that Sean Bean didn't die in the first episode. Like, is Sean Bean ok? Has he lost his sense of self over that break in character? I hope not...

But here's the thing -- all I've ever heard about GOT is that there's an abundance of nudity and sex. So many boobs. So much fucking. Really, this show {minus the dead animals} sounded right up my alley. I love a good sex scene or fifty. But there's barely any boobs and barely any sex. I was outraged! Husband argues that if I want more nudity and sex scenes I should just watch porn. But, I do watch porn. I also like watching TV and when a show is raved about as sex, sex and more sex and there's barely any fucking sex then I'm not really happy.

I'm currently stalled at season two, far too disappointed with the lack of boobs to continue on. Now, I feel bad for Husband who really wants to re-watch the series with me and I just... can't. What's the point? Where are the boobs?

11/22/2016

you've got red on you...

Even though red is B's favourite colour I'm not the biggest fan of it and generally steer clear of it in all areas. However, as soon as Christmas comes calling I break all my rules and find myself greedily gobbling up red items as if my life depends on it.

-- this strawberry eau de toilette from the body shop is one of my favourite warm weather scents. I like to wear it with their body butter in the same scent and enjoy smelling of sweet strawberries all day long {I still can't decide if it's weird to enjoy sniffing myself}.

-- this can't deal eye mask from Peter Alexander. Look, I don't know why people keep stealing my life and making things from it without paying me but there it is. I can rarely deal {all year round} so this is my perfection. I can also see me just randomly popping this on throughout the day when I can't English very well so people just know...

11/21/2016

"sit down please mum, we need to have a conversation..."

B. patted the couch and motioned for me to scoot my body closer to hers. She's five and, yet, I felt my body tense up a bit and the immediate worry crept into my thoughts -- oh crap, what have I done wrong? Am I in trouble? Is she mad? Am I going to get grounded? The fact that my kid can't actually ground me didn't stop my internal freak out.

She sat with her legs together, tiny feet hanging off the couch, her hands clutched neatly together, tucked into her lap. She looked at me, waited for me to press pause on what I was watching {did she think I watched too much tv?} and then began:

Now mum, I'm really sorry that I blocked the TV for you. If I can see you should be able to see as well. I'm sorry.

I felt relief and then, instantly, felt bad because I knew I had to take control of this parenting caper.

I thanked her for her apology and then asked her about a tomato sauce filled rage that had occurred earlier. She apologised for it, for calling me mean, mean, mean, mean! and looked dejected when I told her that being called mean by her hurts my feelings.

She finished off our little meeting with an "I love you mum", I reciprocated and then we hugged it out. I still felt a little fear, lingering at my toes, as I kissed her on her head, mainly because I could see my own parenting techniques in her. As a parent I think I'm kind of lame. When I need to have a talk with B. I get her to sit down. I pat the surface and say "we need to have a chat". A few years ago we banned "time out" in the house. Now I'm that special breed of lame who suggests her kid goes to an unoccupied room to have a "little break" from everyone. Sometimes I tell her I need a little break and go off. Sure enough, a few minutes later we're snuggling but still... I think my lameness is rubbing off on her.

I feel as though it's here that I should now admit that I call "mum & b." meetings where we snuggle up in bed, under the covers, together and talk. I ask her if there's anything I'm doing too much or not enough of and the same for her father. We chat about why we do some things and why we don't do others. Sometimes I add in a new job around the house that we'd like her help with and she gives a suggestion at what she'd like to do better at. And then we just snuggle some more.

So, is someone coming to take her away from me soon or what?

11/18/2016

friday five//currently swooning

I've picked up a few wonderful bits & bobs over the last few weeks and felt a desperate urge to share them here. Five items I am currently swooning over in this sweltering Sydney heat --

In the last year or so I have dreamed/hoped/wished for a pair of Salt Water's. It took me a good couple of months to gather the courage to spend that much on a pair of sandals {says the woman who didn't blink an eye at dropping $2,000 on a bag} and then another couple of months to decide whether I wanted to go neutral or bright. Then, finally, last week, after work, B. and I went on a little shopping date. We headed into Glue with my mind firmly set on the tan and then... these. Oh my yes!

They are in the Rose Gold and I just can't contain my orgasmic excitement. They aren't available on the Glue website but they were $89.95 which is pretty accurate pricing everywhere Salt Water Sandals are sold. Such divine creations.

Oh hey, Lloyd! I just... I adore anything that is incredibly immature and Christmas themed. He's from Kmart {find his siblings here} and he was $12. Mush...

This Harry Potter Funko Pop! Vinyl Pen. Yes. Find this pen necessity here and thank me later.

If you think that I have too many mugs already then you're an idiot and I hate you. He's from Myer and was around $12. Sadly, I can't find him online but if you head into the Myer Christmas-y section then I'm sure you'll see his adorableness around. I love him.

Lastly, from the Husband -- these daisy studs from Pandora. Now, as you may know daisies are my favourite flower {and, yes, I do still detest flowers as a gift} so, of course, I adore these. They are the perfect size to wear always.

*

Now... should I curtail the spending in the lead up to Christmas? Yes or no?

11/16/2016

mental health//currently

For years I have put others before my mental health. I pushed through anxiety attacks in order to make others feel important and valued. And then I'd spend nights in freezing cold showers, drinking too much, wishing for death. I'd press sharp objects against my flesh and pick at my skin until I saw blood. During particularly stressful moments I'd randomly cut my hair until I didn't feel like myself anymore. And then I stopped. It may have been the new medication or a change of mindset, perhaps both, but I decided I needed a break and, so, I put everything on hold {friends, family, writing} and just rested. 

It was everything I needed and more. Yet, I felt like I could spend my whole life in hiding because I was terrified. When you don't leave the house you have nothing to fear. When you don't have anywhere to be or anyone to see the thoughts don't come. I knew I needed to snap out of it {as blissful as it was} because I wasn't really living. I was grateful for the break and I knew I needed it but I also knew I needed to get back into the swing of things. I just didn't know how.

 Eventually it was someone who didn't care about me or my mental health who snapped me out of it. A few horrible comments made me realise that I was hiding from the world and the bad still came. I fell into the depression and, then, after some tears I realised this person, as disgusting as I thought they were, had done me a favour. I, kind of, instantly snapped out of my paused haze and rejoined the world. It was frightening and wonderful.

Now I'm nowhere near "cured" but I feel more capable of handling things. I still have anxiety attacks taking B. to school and I've picked up this incredibly annoying hand/finger tick that I do inadvertently when I'm in distress {read: all the fucking time}. My head still tells and shows me horrible things before I'm about to go out and enjoy life as if to stop me from going. Sometimes I wonder if it knows something I don't and is trying to keep me from harm? Still, I go and, sure, I might be in tears trying to put on make up and my body trembles as I attempt to get out the door but once the fresh air hits my face I feel relief.

Sometimes Husband has to leave work early so he can help me with B. Sometimes it hurts to look at her, my gorgeous child, because I can't be better for her. Being loved and giving love hurts. Being around people gives me migraines that takes days to heal. I still sleep an awful lot but life doesn't feel as foggy.

I'm grateful.

For rude people and revelations.

For amazing people and their never ending kindness.

For a Husband who knows just what to do when he sees my fingers do their odd dance.

11/15/2016

movember


I'm sure most people have heard about Movember by now but, look, I'm here to make a short little reminder. I think the majority of things to do with men, especially health wise, go unnoticed or aren't talked about as much as they should be. And that's nonsense right? Because men are awesome and they deserve just as much notice as anybody else!

So what is Movember anyway? Well, for starters, the Movember Foundation is the only global charity solely focused on men's health. They raise funds that deliver innovative, breakthrough research and support programs to enable men to live happier, healthier and longer lives.

Awareness and fundraising activities are run year-round by the Foundation. The annual Movember campaign is in November {hello!} which is globally recognised for its fun, disruptive approach to fundraising and getting men to take action for their health. Since Movember started in Melbourne in 2003, millions have joined the movement and they've raised $770 million and have funded more than 1,200 projects focusing on prostate cancer, testicular cancer and suicide prevention.

Look, to be honest, I didn't know all that before getting involved this year. I knew there was the facial hair aspect to it all and not much else. Shame on me, I know, because the Movember Foundation is doing wonderful things and we can all help. Yep, not just the men. Ladies need to be getting involved too and that's kind of why you're reading about this today.

So, let's all get together and stop men dying too young. Take action by taking the Move challenge -- do something good for men's health whilst doing something good for your own. Join the fight for men's health at Movember.com and get your friends, family or workplace on board. Spread the word, start a conversation and raise money that is vital for men's health programs. Have fun and do good.

Now, I know, that November has already started but it doesn't matter! Any time to start is great. Sign up and set yourself a Move challenge -- from the big {running a marathon}, to the brave {learning how to surf} or to the mildly outrageous {working out in costume}. Move is all about pushing yourself to reach your personal best.

So, Husband, B & I {perhaps the dogs too} will all be doing our part for men's health and I strongly urge you all to do the same too. Look, I know that we all have our charities we support and I know how sucky it is to feel guilted into supporting another along with all our regular monthly donations but I think this is way too important to ignore. 

But, look, enough rambling from me -- go check out Movember for more information {like did you know, on average, 5 men take their own life each day?}, get moving, raise money and donate!

11/14/2016

ornamental traditions

I feel as though I've written extensively on our family Christmas traditions, yet, here I am to discussing one of my very favourites -- ornaments.

Each year, before we decorate the house, we go on a trek and pick out a special ornament that just "speaks to us". We luxuriate over the decision process, fingering certain ornaments that stand out, until we find the one. I adore the process and, even more so, I adore seeing B's face, awash with Christmas joy, as she picks out her very own and then, later on, when she rushes to grab her special new pick and hang it on the tree. I'm not sure why this tradition out of all the others stands out so vividly for me but it is by far my favourite.

I've made a little list of all my ornament top picks for all those who love them as much as we do --

christmas hope snowflake -- simple, stunning and sweet
hallmark minnie & mickey teacup ornament -- this reminds me of Husband & I and it's just the sweetest thing
pottery barn bottle brush pug ornament -- Bum Bum is not a pug but this ornament reminds me of her regardless
vue vintage wonder crochet teapot -- because I adore tea and love collecting whimsical teapots
llama tree decoration -- reminds me of Bum Bum also {poor Fred!} and those pom poms!



11/11/2016

friday five//the first christmas guide

I may or may not be far too excited about Christmas. I just adore this time of year and it has nothing to do with gifts, yet, I do adore some Christmas gift guides because, why not?

one. the hourglass ambient lighting edit -- surreal light| mecca cosmetica -- if you haven't tried any of the hourglass products then you are missing out on everything that is great in this world. I adore this set & the marble packaging is divine.

two. mermaid blanket|asos -- I've been craving a mermaid blanket for months on end and I need one so badly in my life for nights snuggled up on the couch.

three. dinosaur ring|etsy -- is this not the most needed ring in the history of needed rings?

four. bunny jewellery case|pottery barn kids -- such a gorgeous take on a jewellery box/case for a special little kid. I'm planning on grabbing one of these for B. {along with a pair of ladybug studs} as her end of school year gift. I kind of also want one for myself because, adorable...

five. polka dot saucer & cup|kikki-k -- I know, I know, I always recommend mugs but, look, I'm never going to get enough of them so let's just deal with the facts. How divine is this polka dotted cup? Tea perfection.



11/10/2016

planner love//fox & cactus stickers

While the Husband was away in Melbourne for an eternity and a half I decided to treat myself to some planner stickers because obviously... One of the shops I purchased from was Fox & Cactus which quickly became one of my favourites when I fell in love with her piranha pipes n'plants sheet. Here's what I grabbed this time around --

laundry girls 2, these kawaii emoji girls, face mask girls, christmas shopping girls & these face plant girls {for days where I fail miserably} & here's the freebie sticker sheet. 

I'm a Rose for all which is pretty apt because if I'm any Golden Girl I'm def. Rose. Seriously, who is in charge of cheese?

also -- these sloth workout stickers {with napped instead labels -- essential!}, black kawaii happy mail envelopes, kawaii credit cards, kawaii nail polish, kawaii laptops, rainbow tv & black ones, kawaii sleep in pillows & another freebie {since I made 2 orders}...


*

All of her stickers are removable and printed on high-quality matte paper. I think, sometimes, matte gets a bad rap but these are wonderfully luxe, silky smooth and cut really well. All of the sheets that I purchased are ridiculously affordable at $3.00. You get the option to add kawaii faces to some of the sheets {like above} but there's no extra charge if you do {which I love because I'm cheap man, so cheap}. 

Fox & Cactus is based in Australia. Domestic shipping is $2.00 and she can take 1-2 weeks to ship orders. I ordered mine on October 18 and received them on the 3rd of November. Sure, she's not as fast as other shops but her stickers are so wonderful that the wait is never excruciating, in fact, I kind of adore the build up here. Her customer service is also wonderful. I made my first order and forgot to add the credit cards so I contacted her if I could combine. She wasn't able to, however, she was lovely and prompt. The only "downside" to this, however, was that, of course, I added more than that one sheet to my second order.

I also love that her sheets have an "oddloop-vibe" with her shop name right at the top being a label also {and perfect to add to your planner when you make and/or receive an order}.

Fox & Cactus is one of my most loved shops and I just adore her so. Like, honestly, what would we do without her?



11/09/2016

on doing things young...

I recall, quite strongly, the moment I realised I wanted to get married and start a family. I was at University, the journalism teachers seemed so incredibly heartless and soul-sucking, and I'd just had enough. I was depressed. I knew I didn't want to be a journalist, that I didn't have the "whatever it takes" drive, and I just wanted to be happy. I wanted/needed/craved security and I wanted the close-knit family I'd always dreamed of.

So I got engaged. My paid internship turned into a full time job {where I got to dabble with website work and use my love for editing HTML}. I got married and was pregnant with B. one month later. A year of maternity leave turned into me resigning from my job and becoming a stay-at-home mum. I don't regret any of it but there's a comment I get a lot {even now} and it's -- but you're so young! Sure, I think a lot of people who seem surprised that I'm actually 29 {are you serious? I thought you were 19!} aren't being entirely honest but there's a resounding comment that's followed me for the past 8 years and it is always based on my age.

Yes, I got engaged at 21. I was married and pregnant at 22 and had B. at 23. For me, that wasn't really young at all. In fact, I felt terribly old, terribly hardened, and in desperate need of some stability in my life. I've mentioned before that I didn't have the best childhood and until I met Husband I had never felt loved. That's on my {mostly} crappy family and on me because I know that my mental health has played a large part in this. When this University realisation hit me the first thing I did was to tell Husband that I was ready to get married. He'd been mentioning it for a year, or so, before this and my resounding answer was always a very firm: no fucking way! I never wanted to get married {terrible role models and all that} and I never wanted kids {more terribleness}.

For me doing things in my early twenties wasn't difficult. I wasn't missing out on anything. I knew what I wanted and how to get it. I wanted to start a family. Being pregnant wasn't a huge sacrifice. I wasn't selfish. I knew what to give up and did so happily. Marriage came with its hard parts but it wasn't that much different to being in a relationship/engaged. If I'm honest, it all came rather easily. Sure, life has had its setbacks. We had growing pains. We had to learn how to communicate fairly but I feel grateful that we got to grown in adulthood together.

For me, life has never been based on what age I "should" do things or what society deems "okay". I've always followed my gut and I did so here. Yes, it kind of really fucking sucked that some people's first comments to an engaged twenty-one year old is "the next one will really work out" or "you're twenty-one you don't know what you want!". Comments on immaturity reign supreme. And then, after the pregnancy announcement, "you're way too young to have a baby", "was it an accident?", "you don't know what you're doing."

Mostly, comments like these are ignored because, look, I've been married for six years. I have an amazing five year old so, clearly, I actually do have a clue. But isn't it frustrating that because someone is "so young" we feel as though we have a right to comment and judge and hurt? That we can't just shut our mouth and give help when it's asked for? And what if I had gotten divorced one year in? Or never made it down the aisle? Or drank throughout my pregnancy? Or not known how to be a mum and ran off? What then...?

Would my age be solely to blame? Because I've known much older women who have done these things and more. 

The question I get most asked now is: what if Bailey does the same as you did?

And to this -- I'd hope that she's mature. That she's ready. That she found unconditional love. And if not I'd be ready to help her, to support her, to love her and to shut my mouth.

11/08/2016

pretty beautiful//ultrabland facial cleanser from lush

Sometimes I can be a big idiot. Case in point, I discovered my favourite cleanser forever ago -- Lush's Ultrabland -- and when I'd slapped two pots worth onto my face I decided it was two too many and went elsewhere. Since then I have been decidedly unhappy with my skin. Finally, finally, I went back to Lush and I have been deliriously happy since.

I am yet to meet a cleanser that just works as well as this does. And it does, it just works so darn well. No, it doesn't remove makeup and that's just fine by me. I quite like to remove my makeup before cleansing, luxuriating in the care of it all. It's just nice isn't it?

Ultrabland feels like such a one-of-a-kind product. It's thick and creamy and leaves your skin lovely and plump. Its name is wonderfully misleading, as if the product is nothing special but it is. It definitely is. Ultrabland is based on an ancient Greek formula for cold cream. It's simple and effective, made with almond oil, rose water, beeswax and honey.


Here's how I like to use it:

1. Remove all traces of makeup with your favourite Micellar Water and a cotton pad {or fifty}.
2. Hop in the shower {I use it both morning and night because I so adore a shower} and wet your face. Grab a small amount {about the size of a  5-10 cent coin} and massage into your face and chest.
3. Wet a flannel with lukewarm water and buff the product into your skin.
4. Wet the other side of the flannel with warm water and place all scary sheet like onto the face and remove all residual traces of the product. 
5. Dry skin and add your oil/moisturiser/etc.

The thing I love most about Ultrabland is that it doesn't feel like there's any need to use anything after. It doesn't leave skin tight, dry or itchy and it really feels like it's deep down squeaky clean.

One thing's for sure, I ain't ever straying again. Ultrabland is just too good.



11/07/2016

the "real woman"...


There are few terms I hate worse than "real woman". There's something so hideously stupid about the two words put together and something so ridiculous that people can put those words to paper/keyboard and deem one woman more real than the other. Quite frankly, it's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard because people are writing/saying/preaching "real bodies" at the exact same time as they are writing/saying/preaching that all women should be nicer to each other. Do you not all see how ridiculous you sound/are? Because you are. You're all idiots.

Let's just get this straight: everybody has a real body. Anybody who is naturally skinny has a real body. Anybody who is naturally curvy. Anybody who is in between. Anybody who "bounces" back straight after having kids. Anybody who doesn't. Anybody who may perpetually look pregnant even when they're not. Anybody who "doesn't look pregnant at all". Number one: it's not your business ever. Number two: nobody has the right to deem anybody too fat/skinny. Ever.

Can we please all stop being so fucking image obsessed and just get a fucking grip on reality? 

Nobody has the right to deem what a "real woman" is because anybody who identifies as a woman is a real woman. So can we stop with the articles on what a "real woman" looks like after birth? Sure, lots of women have stretch marks and "wobbly bits". But, guess what? Lots don't. And why is it okay to deem those who don't as not being real? Why is it okay to say they don't love their kids/that they clearly hated being pregnant/that are they sure they didn't use a surrogate? Because, let me be clear here, if I walked around judging every single woman for not looking like me I'd basically be judging them for not stuffing their pie holes with chocolate any chance they got. 

Everybody is different. Everybody looks different. 

End of fucking story. 


11/04/2016

friday five//kids picks

I'm enthusiastically ecstatic that it's almost the weekend. My eyeballs are heavy and I can sense freedom. You know when you're so tired that your eyeballs burn with disappointment? That's how my week went except it was really quite wonderful also. Five kids picks to welcome the weekend --

 one. pig the elf by aaron blabey {who is a genius! sing it loud!} -- this is going to see its way under the tree to be opened by B. on Christmas Eve. I think Husband & I are just as excited to read another of Pig's adventures as B. is.
two. my fairy garden lilypad set -- every year I buy B. and Husband a joint gift for Christmas so I scooped this up since they both adore gardening. B. is also quite fairy obsessed {two fairy doors and counting...} so I know she'll adore this.
three. cotton on kids christmas pjs -- a nice take on regular Christmas pjs which are usually a hideous red. Love these.
four. make me iconic sequin pizza purse -- B. actually hates pizza {how she dare} but this is too delicious to not pick up. It has sequins! She needs it okay?
five. make me iconic toy biscuits -- how divine are these? Perfect for a cafe/shop. 

*

& that's all I can manage without my eyeballs falling out. My bed is calling me. 

11/02/2016

character flaws...?

There's this thing my Husband says to me -- not everything is black and white and I hate it. Because, see, he brings out this neat little fact when somebody has done something horrid and I'm usually sitting, arms crossed, furious that somebody could be so rude. Husband likes to remind me that everybody is human and humans make mistakes. To this I roll my eyes and pout a bit. I also like to make tutting noises because I'm terribly mature but, also, I don't think that way.

I think human behaviour can be seen in only two shades and people who lash out at others because of other contributing factors {mostly unrelated to that person} aren't good people at all. So... goodbye. I tend to close off, quickly forgetting these people exist and won't hear anything to the contrary. Husband tries to instill "forgive and forget". He likes to remind me that sometimes people have rough times and they just don't handle it properly. They yell. They say mean things. They forget that you're a person and decide you are their bane of their existence. They don't mean it...

I don't care.

Because, in my eyes, if you are good person you don't say mean things to people. You just let people be. You realise that everyone is going through a hard time and everyone has their own shit to handle. You don't drone on about how you're "so nice". You put your head down and work harder. That's it.

Half of the time I see this attitude as a great character flaw of mine. Because there have been plenty of people in my life who I have looked at and thought "nope, not a good person" and that's it. I don't believe in drawn out farewells and I don't believe in "sorry". I believe in changed behaviour and I really think you can look at someone and just know... this is who they are {which is usually narcissistic to the core}. And then I move on and I could quite honestly bump into them on the street and feel nothing.

Still, eleven years in, Husband tries to sway me. Part of me think he's scared of me {lol}. As if, one day he may cross me and see me detach myself from him. The other more rational part sees this is a man who comes from a broken family, who battles with feeling like an outsider, and just wants peace. He just wants to be liked. But I don't care about being liked and I don't care to be around people who are racist and/or homophobic {and no, I don't care if it was a drunken slur}. I don't want to be around people who lash out and who say horrible things. People who don't see depression as a real {and fucking scary} thing. No thanks.

So... massive character flaw? Maybe.

But, you know what? Most of the time I don't really believe that. I know I'm tough on people but, look, the world is a really shitty place and I don't have time for nonsense.

11/01/2016

being mum//the hardest part is...

For just over 5 years now I have been firmly on the "parenting is not hard" train and kind-of eye-rollingly annoyed by all the parents who complain and whinge and never shut the fuck up. But, look, I apologise. I confess. I have now discovered that parenting is fucking hard, or, one aspect at least...

i don't know where to charge my vibrator...

Because, as much as I'm not ashamed of loving sex and the toys that go with I do not need my daughter seeing it. That's just taking it too far for me. So, where the hell do you charge your vibrator so your kid doesn't see? All my power points are in non-vibrator-hiding places!

So, you see, I admit defeat. Parenting is hard.