Summer Land's Blog, page 5

The Time I Became A Political Commentator And Learned To Not Give A F&@% About My “Friends” on Facebook.

People who know me probably wouldn’t describe me as a political person. Politically incorrect? Yes. Politically involved? Not so much.

It’s not that I don’t care about the government and who is representing my interests and welfare, I just get overwhelmed by the constant fight for power and control that is blasted on my TV, iPhone and computer. Daily, I see people being attacked for their beliefs and opinions and it makes me sad. Nothing seems amicable anymore.
As someone who wants everyone to like them, I’m  too afraid that my super conservative friends on Facebook will leave a mean comment if I post something about being Pro Choice, Pro marriage equality, Pro equal pay, Pro gun control, Pro immigration or Anti-war. Up until now,  I’ve tended to be quiet about my thoughts and beliefs because I don’t want to have to defend them. I don’t like debating.

(Unless it’s debating which type of Mexican food is the best. Tacos, hands down.)

For the past five years I’ve been blissfully living in Australia, not really connected to either government until yesterday when a Central West ABC reporter asked me to weigh in on the 2016 Presidential Election on the radio. Since I try to be a, “YES person” as much as possible, I agreed. I then immediately drank way too much coffee,  googled what a “caucus” was and made cheat sheets in an effort to not sound uninformed. (Americans already get enough bad press and I wanted to do my people proud!)
Not going to lie –  I was too afraid to listen to myself when it aired. In the beginning, I had choked on words, got stumped and lost my train of thought, but by the end, I found myself ranting. Like full on Michael Moore ranting about my disdain for Donald Trump and shouting my love for Hillary and Planned Parenthood. When we ended the interview, I realised that I actually really do care about politics.

Even though I don’t live in the United States anymore, my family and friends do and I need to make sure that they’re in good hands.

After all, everyone deserves the right to smoke some pot with his or her (legal) Mexican immigrant same sex husband or wife while eating amazing shrimp tacos that they can afford because of a decent minimum wage. (And without the fear of guns.)
Come November, you best believe I will be sending an absentee ballot for Hillary Clinton and tweeting something that will make the world troll me. #WorthIt

(Cover image from here.)

The post The Time I Became A Political Commentator And Learned To Not Give A F&@% About My “Friends” on Facebook. appeared first on Summerlandish.

What’s With Kinder Surprise Egg Unwrapping Videos?

My two-year-old daughter, Daisy, is completely obsessed with watching people open Kinder Surprise Eggs on Youtube and I find it slightly disturbing.
In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, join the 380 million people who’ve watched the video below.

 

It all started when my mom, Donna, bought her an iPad. (Obviously, we have hopes & dreams that she’ll grow up to be some sort of tech prodigy or Instagram influencer, but that’s beside the point.) Donna was tired of sharing her Kindle Fire and I was tired of having Baby Bell cheese smears on my iPhone so Daisy got an iPad mini. We loaded it up with ABC iView, Peppa Pig movies, Endless Alphabet and other educational games. One day, I naively decided to put the YouTube Kids app on there. Little did I know, this was going to lead Daisy (and myself) down a very dark hole.
Did you know that grown humans upload videos of themselves unboxing and playing with toys? I didn’t either and it’s as creepy as it sounds. After I watched Daisy watch a woman play “bath time” with her baby doll, she stumbled upon a plethora of videos showing people opening Kinder Surprise Eggs. Each video seemed to have a different theme. Some scary and masculine, some light hearted and feminine.

Needless to say, they were all weird as phuck.

Apparently “unwrapping Kinder Surprise Eggs” is a huge trend and reelseo.com tracked over 5.1 BILLION total views for fan videos on YouTube.  These are Taylor Swift Vevo numbers, people.
As a self-confessed “Cool Mom,” I was surprised when I found myself wanting to take the videos away. I felt like the Fun Police and it felt wrong. Perhaps it was the intensity that Daisy stared with. It was like she was in an alternate universe. One with egg shaped chocolate, arcade music and cheap toys that are clearly a choking hazard. While in her trance, I’m fairly confident she didn’t blink for over 43 minutes. Even though I secretly enjoyed how distracted she was, (I could get so much done!) I decided to delete the app. For a few days, Daisy begged to, “Watch eggs! Watch eggs!”
Since my main goal as a parent is to awaken her genius and keep her spirit lit, I decided to buy her an actual Kinder Surprise Egg. It seemed healthier than hours of YouTube virtual reality. As her tiny fingers broke through the foil I noticed that Daisy was in chocolate egg heaven. Of course she was, it was a chocolate egg with a toy in it. Unfortunately, I quickly learned that two-year-old sugar crashes send me straight to hell. I also felt like she only wanted to eat chocolate instead of her meals so I knew I needed to limit them to holidays and special occassions. (Or a road trip when I needed to bribe her.) For the next week she begged for more “chocolate eggs.” “MORE MORE MORE.”
With Daisy’s egg obession still going full steam ahead and my need to not cave to weird YouTube videos, I jumped at the opportunity to collect my friend’s chicken’s eggs when they went out of town. I knew this would be the perfect opportunity for me to show Daisy how to have a healthy relationship with eggs in real life. Perhaps I should have explained to her that there are not toys inside chicken eggs.
Exhibit A.

The next time we went, I figured she would have learned from her mistake.

(Apparently I forgot that she is two.)

Exhibit B.

As a working mom of two, I really miss having those creepy Angry Bird themed egg videos to distract Daisy when she wakes up at 5am. But as a marketing professional, I feel like I have to protect Daisy from the not so subliminal YouTube videos telling her to ask for a Kinder Surprise Egg the next time we are in the check out at Woolworths. I feel like giant toy companies and media houses have discovered that children are completely engrossed by these videos and  pay people to make them and it feels conniving.
I have to ask, are these videos an Australian thing? Do children in the US also obsess? 5.1 BILLION views is a lot, so maybe kids in Asia have joined in too. Do you have an egg obsessed kid? Talk to me.

Join the conversation – Follow me on Twitter #EggHead

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I Went Vegan for 24 Hours And This Is What Happened

A few days ago I decided to embark on a meal plan similar to a rabbit’s. No, I’m not doing a new years cleanse, I’m not an aspiring lifestyle blogger or trying to lose a substantial amount of weight. I’m just your average 28 year old mom who finally ate the amount of frozen pizza and wine that causes the type of heart burn only a grown man in a KFC should experience. Since I’m not willing to give up wine, I figured I should swap some of my deep fried and cheese covered favourites for some “cleaner” options. On a whim, I downloaded the Optimal Beauty E-Book, which was full of meal plans, shopping lists and affirmations that would make Oprah proud. I was to eat nothing but vegetables, fruit, tahini and bee pollen. I think deep down I knew that this was a bad idea because I suffer from Food Anxiety. I’m always stressed out that their won’t be enough or that something I order won’t be made how I want it. (See the time I was given a burrito with sweet chilli sauce.)
Regardless, it was time to do something good for my body. After loading up on $300 worth of ingredients that Gwyneth Paltrow would definitely have in her pantry, my best friend Emily, who’s visiting from the states, and I began our new and improved meal plan with a super green and creamy smoothie. It was delicious and surprisingly filling. For about an hour. Since I’m the kind of person that likes to have a second breakfast, waiting until Emily made our next dish was torture. All I could think about was the bread smell from Subway and buffalo chicken subs from Publix. Still, I resisted. I mean, if I couldn’t go vegan for 24 hours, what could I do?

Roughly four hours into my new and improved life, my food anxiety made me unable to person. Forming sentences was hard. Remembering my children’s names was challenging. Trying to be presentable in public was impossible. Basically I was like 2014 Amanda Bynes. (I love you, Amanda!)

As I watched Emily peel slices of zucchini for a faux pasta dish, I took note that I felt shaky and nervous that there wouldn’t be enough. Since, I’m also a very visual eater, I rely on quantity to tell me that my stomach is full. (Side note – When I was 17 and trying to be a movie star in LA, I tried to drink a SlimFast for breakfast instead of my usual corn beef & hash. BUT it only felt like a drink so then I’d eat real food immediately after and subsequently double my caloric intake. Long story short – I gained 25 pounds in five months and did not become a movie star, but did get three new stretch marks I like to call Birtha, Gert and Esther.) Emily dished up two gorgeous (but small) bowls of raw veggies pretending to be pasta on a bed of quinoa. The first bite made me drool. It was delicious. The second bite caused me to lift the bowl to my mouth so that I could shovel in the vegan goodness faster.
That’s when I had my full blown food anxiety attack.
My fingers turned to butter (like the butter I was no longer allowed to eat) and the bowl slipped out of my hands and shattered on the counter. (I should probably mention that this was the second time I had had my food fall that week. Previously, Axel had dragged my salmon burger and plate off the counter with his six month old fingers. Since I had looked forward to the brioche bun all day, I still ate it. I’m 83% confident that there is an unsafe amount of dog hair, dirt and shattered plate lodged in my stomach lining.)
So here I was eating quinoa mixed with shattered porcelain. Apparently, giving up meat for a few hours will make me an even more ridiculous human. After my coconut, walnut and apple bliss ball snack, I started thinking about my behaviour. Why on earth did me giving up my usual breakfast wraps and tuna sandwich lunch cause me to act like a heroine addict missing her Methadone dose? Emily and I concluded I needed larger portions and more snacks, especially since I’m breastfeeding.

 

For dinner, Emily put together an amazing Mexi-Bowl smothered in vegan nacho cheese. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but it’s a thing I swear. It was made with nutritional yeast, coconut oil and flour and I’m shitting you not – it tasted just like the kind of cheese you get at a movie theater or bowling alley. (In other words, ah-mazing.)
I got in the shower and washed the day off me. Of course, I began to pee because I’m physically unable to enter a shower (or pool) without peeing. What I saw next truly frightened me. My pee was yellow. Not dehydrated yellow – but like Laa-Laa Teletubby yellow. I called for Emily to come look at my puddle of fluro ooze. She said hers was like that too. Curious, we started thinking it might be from the abundance of nutritional yeast we were consuming. After a quick google search we learned that yes, the yellow in our pee was from a healthy serving of B vitamins. One blogger said, “It’s your body’s way of saying thank you for all the nutrients!” I’m just thankful I didn’t take a shower in our town’s public pool that day. EVERYONE WOULD KNOW I’M A POOL-PEE-ER.
The next day, my food anxiety was still present, but I was doing my best to eat “clean.” However, I noticed I felt lethargic and that my mind was foggy. I started thinking about slices of salami wrapped around olives and perfectly cooked egg yolk dripping down my chin. I also thought about licking a salt block. It was almost erotic and I started understanding why some men like to feed their plus size girlfriends.  Since I was clearly losing my mind, I contemplated getting an Uber to take my kids to daycare, but then remembered I live in rural Australia. Instead, I ate an apple and pulled it together.

Okay fine, I ate a fucking slice of salami and I swear it saved mine and my children’s lives.

Turns out, I need meat and eggs to survive. At least for now. However, I’ve really enjoyed adding in all of this fresh goodness to my diet and eliminating dairy. My stomach issues (that all American girls my age have for some reason) are getting heaps better. Definitely check out Danielle’s blog and ebooks HERE.

 

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Merry Summermas!!

Right now get two copies of Summerlandish for the price of one when you buy it RIGHT HERE!

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Need Some Life Inspiration? Meet: Leisel Jones

I recently read Body Lengths by Australian Olympic Gold Medalist, Leisel Jones, and LOVED it. So much so that I had to track her down on Instagram and double tap all of her pictures until she acknowledged my existence. Thankfully, she liked the abundance of baby and dog pictures I posted and agreed to answer some questions for me.

 

1.It takes a lot of courage to write a memoir. Were you afraid to release your book? If yes, how did you face that fear?

 

I thoroughly enjoyed the journey of writing my memoir with Felicity McLean. I was never once frightened of the stories we were writing because they each had a purpose. I never wanted anyone to look bad from what I told so I made sure that I wrote about things that has a lesson in it for me personally. I wanted young people (and the not so young) to know that it’s not all roses at the top and we deal with the same shitty everyday problems like bullies, bingeing and boys (see what I did there? Such an author haha!) Although I did have a mild panic attack the day before it was released. It all became very real and then the daunting fear of what people might think settled in. But you gotta risk it to get the biscuit right? Also I’m extremely proud of the end result so the fear disappeared straight away.

 

2. What advice do you have for women (and men) when it comes to competition (in a pool, at work, or socially…)?

 

When competition is healthy it really drives you to be a better person. I found this with swimming. I loved my competitors out of the pool but once I dived in it was ‘game on moles’. They spurred me on to go faster, get stronger and have a healthy respect for people better than me. Unfortunately in the real world I have found it to be very different. Women in particular are hard on themselves yet they drag other women down with them. It’s madness! Why can’t we boost each other up? We have it tough enough when it comes to the workforce and equal pay so why the hell do we make it harder for ourselves in other areas such as social media? I love encouraging young people who genuinely have the right attitude and respect.

 

3. Who are some of your favourite female role models and why? 

 

I have a few women that I look up to and they usually have a lot in common. Ita Buttrose is one, Ellen Degeneres and Oprah are some others. They are strong, genuine and hard working. They have faced adversity and come out on top shining. If I could be half as successful as them, I would be so proud.

 

4. How are you spending your time these days? Any more book writing?! I saw that you were at a wellness retreat- tell us more! 

 

I spend my time very differently these days. I don’t have a lot of routine which drives me insane. I use to do military style training and now some days can be pretty empty. It drives my partner Damon up the wall because I get so antsy if I’m not busy all of the time. I do some corporate speaking, media but most of all I’m just a professional diva. I would love to write another book because the first one was so fun. But I feel like I would need to live another 30 years and that just sounds exhausting. Looking to 2016 I’m working on a new little adventure but it has only just begun. Keep an eye out for this one. I’m bloody excited!

 

5. Where’s your favourite place to holiday in Australia? (As an American ex-pat, I’m always keen to find a new magical spot to explore.)

 

My favourite place to holiday in Australia usually has some health element to it. Whether it be a yoga retreat or exercise options. I recently spent a few days at Gaia Retreat and Spa in the Byron hinterland. I always leave feeling lighter and have a clearer mind. Next on my list is the luxurious (aka expensive) Qualia. I’m also really keen to travel with Damon to Cambodia, Vietnam and the Soloman Islands. Better start saving.

 

 

You can get Leisel’s book HERE.
You can follow Leisel on Instagram HERE.

The post Need Some Life Inspiration? Meet: Leisel Jones appeared first on Summerlandish.

Author Interview: Sarai Walker

Every now and then you read a book that makes the phrases, “What the phuck?,” “Holy shit.” and “Oh my God!” float through your mind with the turning of every page. I’ve recently had this experience with Sarai Walker’s Dietland. It’s great, shocking, compelling, insightful and every other literary jargon adjective that you will immediately need all of your friends to read it so you can talk about it.  Please do me and yourself a favour and buy a copy from one of these booksellers: Amazon, iTunes, Dymocks.

 

Now let’s chat with the author extraordinaire, Sarai!

 

Was Dietland inside your mind for a long time? What originally sparked the idea of writing about feminism in such a unique (and sometimes shocking) way?
DIETLAND has been part of my life for a really long time. I first had the idea to write a feminist novel after I saw the film FIGHT CLUB. I loved the film’s angry, defiant, punk spirit. I thought nothing like that existed for women, that only men were allowed to behave that way. So that was the moment a little spark of an idea was created. It would be many years before I knew what the novel would actually be about though.

 

Were you ever afraid to have such a provocative story hit shelves? Was it in some way cathartic to have Dietland published and set free?
I wasn’t worried until a few months before publication. Then I started to panic a bit, wondering if I’d be attacked. I think all writers feel anxiety in the months leading up to publication — when you publish a book, you put yourself into the public eye and will be judged in a public way, which is scary. Given the provocative nature of DIETLAND, I knew it would make some people angry, and it has, but I’ve received even more positive and enthusiastic responses, which has been great.
My feelings of catharsis came when I finished the editing process. That was when I said goodbye to Plum and her story. When the book was actually published about 9 or 10 months later, I felt in a weird way that I’d already moved on emotionally. DIETLAND now existed for readers, not for me.

 

The New Baptist Plan was particularly clever. How did you come up with the steps? Did you do specific psychological research? 
This summer I was interviewed by a psychologist who specializes in issues to do with body image, eating, etc. She asked me if I consulted a psychologist to write the New Baptist Plan, which was flattering, because I made it up myself!
So often, our ideas of “self improvement” focus on physical appearance and trying to adhere to a cultural ideal. It was an interesting experience to subvert that, to flip it around and create a new self-improvement plan that tries to help a woman accept herself as she is and to think about what self-improvement means from a feminist perspective. Most of the steps are specific to Plum’s situation, so as I wrote it, I focused on the most important problems for her. But I’m sure we could each create a New Baptist Plan for ourselves.

 

Dietlandwould be an incredible movie. Any interest in writing a screenplay? 
Well (wink, wink), I might have some news to announce about a TV/film adaptation in the near future. While I plan to be a consultant on any adaptation, I don’t want to write the script. I was immersed in the world of DIETLAND for so long and it’s time for me to move on to other projects. I also think it would benefit from a fresh eye. I don’t have enough distance from the story to see how it should be shaped for the screen.

 

Do you have another book in you? (I hope so!)
Yes! I am currently starting on my second novel, which I’m really excited about. I’m too superstitious to say much about it right now, but it’s both very different from DIETLAND and also similar in the way it explores gender in a provocative way.



Sarai Walker is currently living in Taos, New Mexico and working on her second novel. Follow her on Instragram here.

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A Letter To My Dead Jewish Grandmother

Dear GG,
I can’t believe it’s been 17 years since you passed away. It was peculiar, yet romantic how closely you followed Papa Zadee. I like to think that you two are zipping around Heaven in your larger than life Cadillac (that my friends loved calling the canoes for Jews) and spending your evenings raising money for Heaven’s community center. (Tax deductible, of course.) You two were always so generous with your time and money. I hope to be able to give back like you did one day. I always admired your work ethic. The fact that Papa Zadee grew up on the wrong side of the tracks with the stigma of being one of the only Jews in town (before Steven Spielberg made it cool) and still managed to become one of the most respected businessmen in the entire state gives me so much motivation. Don’t you worry – I know he couldn’t have opened two jewellery stores without your epic sales skills and support. #Powercouple. (Oh yeah, GG – hashtags are a thing now. I will explain more about that and Snapchat in my next letter.)
Gosh, I really miss you both, but especially you right now, GG. I hate that you’re not here to see the woman I’ve become. And I’m not just talking about the fact that I’m now a B Cup. (Thank you, breastfeeding!) I’ve built a life for myself and it kills me that you don’t get to watch me be a contributing member of society.  I’m an author of actual books sold in actual book stores. But mostly, I hate that you missed my Bat Mitzvah. On a scale of Personalize Your Own Ice Cream Bar to Guest Performance by Usher, it was a solid 7. The theme was Betty Boop and nothing showed my transition into Jewish Adult Life like that Cartoon Cigarette Girl. You would have been so proud.
Since I know you’re busy up there planning dinner parties and making everyone envious of your ability to wear an iridescent purple track suit in a way that only you and Kate Middleton could make elegant, I’ll get to the point. I have two confessions.


I married a man named Paul.


My son has his foreskin.


This may be obvious based on his name, but Paul’s not Jewish. Go ahead, roll over. I’ll wait. I bet that’s more comfortable anyway isn’t it?
Paul is a wonderful soul and he adores me. He truly loves that I’m Jewish. I’m not sure if it’s my faith, my mom’s Noodle Kugle or the fact that he gets to dance the Hora at the weddings we go to, but he’s completely on board with raising our kids as members of the tribe. He has enjoyed having Shabbat dinner with our friends and thinks my free birthright trip to Israeli in 2007 was right up there with schoolies. I know what you’re going to say, “What about that nice boy, Jacob? He was Jewish and in Finance.” In my defence – Jacob was kind, yes, BUT Paul’s Australian. That accent is like catnip to us American girls. He called me, “Summah” and offered me Pavlova. What was I to do? You know I’m an eater. I promise that you’d love him. You’d also adore your great grandbabies, Daisy and Axel. Daisy is two and full of light. We had her Hebrew Naming at B’Nai Israel in Florida last year. We chose, Carmiya, which means vineyard of the Lord. We’re currently living in a rural mining town in Australia, which also conveniently happens to be wine country. Now that I think about it, I may or may not have been slightly buzzed when we chose her Hebrew Name. As for Axel. (Who Daisy calls, “Asshole” in her cute two-year-old voice.) I’m not sure if he can have a Hebrew name because we didn’t have him circumcised. Paul’s not and he felt so strongly about keeping that extra inch of skin on our son. Since both of our babies have my last name, I felt like I needed to let him win this one. And to be completely honest, I didn’t want him to be snipped either. Once you get slack, you never go back, right? That little extra epidermis Swag looks like such a safe place for a penis. But does this mean that Axel is less Jewish? There’s no one in Mudgee for me to ask. I guess I’ll have to check with Rabbi Google. As far as I know, we’re the only Jewish people in Mudgee. Even after five years, I have yet to find another person who shares my affinity for Gefilte fish and I consider myself to be quite the social butterfly. I really miss having a Jewish community especially as a new mom with a baby foreskin problem. I also miss being able to eat Chinese food and see a movie on Christmas Day. Mudgee is great, but I need a Jewish community. I especially need my wise and sassy Jewish grandmother.
How will I be able to show my kids the joy of seeking out the Affi Koman at the Auerbach’s house? What about skipping school for the High Holy Days? They need to experience the Roseman’s Matzah Ball Soup. Mine is sub par. What about Hebrew School? I LOVED going to Hebrew School and flirting with Arthur Goldstein. I mean learning about the Maccabees and stuff.  No child should have to go through life without experiencing the amazing head rush you get after trying to blow a shofar. Oh GG, I know that if you were here, you’d fly to Mudgee and raise money to open up a synagogue and also raise awareness for Jews with Foreskin. #JWF. We could even make bracelets. Just last week I had to explain to my curious/ judgemental masseuse that being Jewish is different than being a Jehovah’s Witness and that yes, Daisy can still participate in the town’s annual Easter egg hunt. She was so relieved when I told her that my kids could celebrate their birthdays because, “Birthday parties are a big deal here.” Little does she know that I treat birthdays like Kanye treats his ego. They should be publicly celebrated all year round.
Anyway, I hope you’re not too mad about the whole non-Jewish husband and Axel thing. I promise our family is anchored by love, respect and faith and after all, isn’t that what religion should be about?
Rest easy, GG.

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Help Create Miss Independents in Boston!

Figuring out what to do after college (or even what to major in) is a hard decision. Trust me – I was just about everything from a nanny to a gym towel folder to a footwear marketer. I also once answered a cleaning ad on Craig’s List before I found my current role as Author of Very Important and Serious books…. which you can buy HERE. 
This week I’m especially impressed by my fellow Emerson College buddy, Brittany Perro who has created the mentorship program Miss Independents. She and other awesome ladies are mentoring Boston’s youth and providing guidance through those super stressful (but totally fun) years of self discovery. Miss Indpendents offers life coaching and leadership training so that we can all pass down what we’ve learned about being a Girl Boss just like Sophia Amoruso!
If you’re in the Boston area and willing to pay forward some of your awesomeness, check out Miss Independents and consider becoming a mentor. Sign up HERE to get involved.

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Should You Do The High Ropes Course At Taronga Zoo If You’re Breastfeeding?

Let’s talk about the time my best friend made me do the high ropes course at Taronga Zoo​.

It was Megan’s second day in Australia and she was still too excited about being in Iggy Azalea​’s homeland to acknowledge that her Jet Lag might have been clouding her judgement. I on the other hand was completely aware that my own exhaustion was making me behave like I had just come off a binder of opiates, moonshine and a viewing of Fantasia. I was toting around an emotionally fragile two-year-old whose new molars might as well have been molten lava, an 11 week old baby who was adamant about sucking my nipples until they resembled prunes and my equally exhausted husband who had just finished a very late shift in a coal mine the night before. If that scenario alone wasn’t enough to make us zombies, we ran out of gas in a rural town somewhere between Mudgee and Sydney on the way to pick up Megan from the airport at 4am and had to sit at a service station for 2 hours for them to open. Long story short – I was in no state to operate heavy machinery and/or not drool and stare vacantly in public.
 Even though I knew that I desperately needed a hot shower, my hotel bed and my mom to come and keep my children away from sharp objects, I still managed to cheerfully agree to do the high ropes course with Megan. She loves monkey activities and looked like a hopeful puppy when she asked. Feeling anxious about detaching le bebe from my fun bags, I left sweet baby Axel and a sleeping Daisy with Paul and set off to see if I had learned anything from watching Wipe Out on hangover day in college.
Turns out – I did. At first, I stared at the course and immediately began sweating in places no woman should sweat. I had damp hands and a damp (cough) crack. I was terrified. Since I didn’t have any rosin, I blotted my hands on my shirt and set off with my game face on. After I made it to the first pillar I looked back to see Megan. She couldn’t believe how quickly and gracefully I made it across. I couldn’t believe it either. I swear I had the agility of a cat. Even though I was slaying everything, I was secretly terrified. Not of the height exactly, but that something would go horribly wrong and the course would collapse. I’m convinced that something happens to your confidence after you give birth – you assess risk differently. Something inside you screams, “Stay alive! You have young to protect!”
About halfway through the first course, Axel started screaming. The kind of scream that instantly makes your milk stream down your stomach. I was shouting down instructions to Paul on how to hold him, where a dummy might be and if he could please just get his man boob out. Feeling desperate to get to my baby, I was horrified when the obstacles got even more intense and terrifying. Even Megan was clutching onto my back when we were on the break pillars. Nothing like two best friends cry-laughing with fear in less than flattering harnesses gazing over Sydney’s Harbour.
When I had to cross a thin balance beam of wire in the sky, I began dry heaving. Not full on dinosaur noises or anything – just tiny little gags as I stared intently at the next safety pillar in front of me. That’s when I heard Axels’ cries go from, “I’m really angry and need your boob” to “Listen, Bitch, if I don’t get your tit in my mouth, I’m going to show everyone your 7th grade yearbook photo.” I started to speed up. Megan cried for me to wait for her, but I had to get to my baby.
Have you ever had a double let down of milk while trying to balance on a knee board in the sky? It’s not ideal. Anxious to finish the course, I had to pause to look down to see if milk was dripping on innocent bystanders. (I don’t care how annoying they may be, no child needs a monsoon of Mother’s Milk.) I was also truly petrified about my current location. If the weird knee board challenge wasn’t enough, I had to cross a Jacobs Ladder that was 40 feet in the air. As my child’s cry rang in my ears, I just knew that I had to face my fears and get to him. I surveyed the situation and tried to walk over the DNA strand like course. The bruises on my shins are going to tell you that it was not a wise decision. I still don’t know how I was supposed to win that one. Long story short – I finished the course, zip lined to safety and clutched my son in my arms.
As Axel drank my sweet nectar, Paul told me that a small child had heard Megan and me cackling and asked his mom what animal that was. She replied nicely, “I think that’s a person with a  funny laugh, Sweety.” You know what it was – it was a grown woman trying to maintain her youth while needing desperately to feed her young.

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First World Beauty Problems

One of my favourite people in the world is Aussie beauty blogger, Nicola Wood, of First World Beauty Problems. I adore her because she excels at loving makeup, hair care and self tanner without being a total tool. She knows all about accidentally dying your hair orange and the injuries that can occur from trying to wax your own moustache. Nicola is a total glamour, but she absolutely knows how to laugh at herself when her “natural tan” leaves a mark on her white shorts, which is why she’s my kind of girl.
I relate because I’m terrible at all things beauty. I try to bathe regularly and usually wear a layer of makeup, but that’s about as far as I go. It’s not that I don’t want to  blow dry my hair and then curl it with a wand that resembles a sex-toy, it’s just that I’m not good at it. I spend hours sweating in my bathroom trying to achieve the perfect middle part and all I get is a poofy camel toe on the top of my head. The defeat is not worth it. (Don’t even ask me about the time I tried to do “cat-eye” eyeliner.)

Let’s Take A Look Back At The Evolution Of My Beauty Problems

The time these bangs happened.

The time these bangs AND this face happened.

The time I decided to do something about my bangs and this happened.

The time I abused my right to wear scrunchies.

The time I wore the wrong shade of foundation.

And here I am today. Failing.

Watch below to see Nicola & me chat about more of our beauty fails on
Confessions Of Another Blonde On The Internet!

 

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