Summer Land's Blog, page 6

How My Mom’s Fart Sent Me Into Labor

 

One of the worst things you can do to your mom (besides telling her that it’s okay to use a purse hook in public), is move roughly 9,000 miles away to Australia and start having grandbabies. Luckily, my mom, Donna, is an excellent sport and has braved the journey from Florida to the Land of Tim Tams and kangaroos five times in the past three years. As a 66-year-old, this is no easy feat. When I picked her up from the Dubbo airport a couple of weeks ago, we began the two hour journey back to Mudgee, which consists of some very bumpy and very unfinished roads. At 37 weeks pregnant, this was mildly uncomfortable for me. I had to pee every 4 minutes and felt like my unborn child’s foot was about to burst through my vagina like a scene straight out of Alien, which brings me to the worst thing you can do to your pregnant daughter: Tell her a fart story.
Donna began telling me that on her journey across the Pacific, she let a fart out that was like no other fart. I immediately began to laugh because nothing is funnier than a story involving flatulence. (Can I get an “Amen, Sister?”)

She continued… “I settled into my seat and got to know the girl sitting next to me. She was a missionary from San Diego. I decided not to tell her about your book. As the plane began to take off, I tucked my blanket tightly around my body and began searching for a movie. After selecting Interstellar, I had the sudden urge to release some air.”

As someone who knows all too well the type of “air” travelling by plane for two days can create, I began to convulse with laughter, which put an immense amount of pressure on my bladder and baby.

“Since we were still ascending, I figured it was a good time to relax into the fart. Oh how I was wrong. The noise that followed caused my new missionary friend to jump, look over at me and scream out in horror. Even though the sheer force of my fog horn fart literally lifted up my blanket, I thought that maybe, just maybe I could get away with it by staring at my tv monitor. This is when I knew that I could win an Oscar. I watched Matthew McConaughey intently, while simultaneously praying that my missionary friend would conclude that the noise she heard must have been from the plane. Or the work of Satan.”

Tears were streaming down my face and either urine or amniotic fluid was seeping into my pants. I was trying to focus on driving, but I was having a very hard time catching my breath. How Donna’s fart had been louder than not one, but two jet engines had me dying of laughter.
That night, Donna fell asleep at 7pm. I stayed up to work on my new book, finish the dishes and get organized for the next day. When I finally laid down, contractions began. And not the fake Braxton Hicks ones. Real, painful, HOLY F I’M IN LABOR contractions. Three weeks early. Obviously, this was a bit unexpected. But then I realized that I literally hadn’t laughed as hard as I had in the car in probably my entire life. It’s no wonder my baby was trying to get out of me. The next day, I delivered Donna’s first grandson – Axel Paul Land. And I know deep down it’s all because of the fart that scared the missionary lady out of her seat over the Pacific Ocean.
Things proven to start labor: nipple stimulation, sex and Donna’s fart story.

 

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Born To Be Donna

After having Summerlandish: Do As I Say, Not As I Did published, I started receiving amazing messages from strangers saying how much they love my mom, Donna. Without even knowing her in real life, people feel this connection and admiration for her. Perhaps it’s her care free outlook on life. Maybe it’s her fashion choices from the early 90s… Either way – she’s a legend and I’m glad that the world recognizes that.
It’s hard living so far away for her, but lucky for me – SHE’S JUST LANDED IN AUSTRALIA FOR THE BIRTH OF HER SECOND GRANDCHILD.
To celebrate her arrival, I thought I’d put together the Top 10 Donna moments I’ve gathered from online and my phone. (You’re welcome.)

 

#10 – The time that Donna knew how to wear a white visor and (what looks like) medical glasses while chillin on a boat like a bosslady.

#9 – The time that Donna knew what Facebook should be used for.

 

#8 – The time that Donna was excellent with spelling and grammar.

 

#7 – The time that Donna supported the f*ck out of her daughter.

#6 – The time that Donna wanted her friends to sharpen their shoelace tying skills.

 

#5 – The time that Donna knew what kind of mail I wanted at summer camp. (When I was 7.)

#4 – One of the many times that Donna was looking out for me.

 

#3 – The time that Donna rocked these loafers while cruising around the world.

#2 – The time that the ground ate Donna and it was hilarious.

#1 – The time that Donna offered the most important advice in my book.

Get Summerlandish HERE and read all about Donna so you can love her too. #BornToBeDonna.

 

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The Most Uncomfortable Children’s Book You’ll Ever Read

As someone who writes freely about their vagina, bowel movements and sexual history, you would think that I’d be able to make it through the classic children’s book, There’s A House Inside My Mummy by Giles Andreae & Vanessa Cabban, without turning 50 shades of red, vomiting in my mouth and then burying my head in my daughter, Daisy’s, stuffed animal basket. First of all, I need to clarify that this is an amazing book and has massively helped prepare Daisy for the arrival of her little brother. I highly recommend it.
However, I DON’T recommend reading it out loud in front of other parents or in any public setting. Why? Because of the second to last page. We’ve just been taken on a child’s emotional journey when he learns his mother is pregnant with his younger sibling. His dad explains all about “mummy’s tummy house” and how the baby is growing inside. Then he drops this bomb:

“I just can’t wait to meet him
I hope that he’s all right,
My daddy says be patient
As his door is rather tight.”

And now we all have an image of a tight vagina in our minds. Thanks, Giles & Vanessa. The actual image of a vagina doesn’t bother me. It’s the word “tight” that does. Kind of like the words “moist” and “p-ssy.” (Which I can’t even bring myself to type out.) Which reminds me of another children’s book I blush whenever I read – The Owl and the P-ssycat. I know I’m acting like a 12-year-old with a kid named “Fanny” in her class, but I seriously can’t handle these books. What about you? Any children’s books that make you want to say #OMGNOSTOP?
Click here to watch There’s A House Inside My Mummy being read on YouTube if you think you’re ready for this jelly.

 

(Book Cover Image via HERE.)
(Feature Image via HERE.)

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Why I Can’t Work A 9-5 Job.

Before I begin this post, I need you to know that I have an extremely strong work ethic. I’ve had some sort of job since I was 12. Whether I was babysitting, being a camp counsellor or answering phones, I’ve earned my keep. (I’ve also cleaned many gym bathrooms in my day.) That being said, I’ve found that I am really not good at having a job that requires me to sit behind a desk for a designated amount of time. (Unless I have access to some sort of ADD medication.)
I don’t know why, but when I am forced to sit in one chair for an entire day, I suddenly become RAVENOUSLY HUNGRY.
I really can’t explain it. With every hour that passes, my stomach becomes a bottomless pit that no amount of almonds, chia pudding, or Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwiches can even begin to fill. Here’s a typical work day for Summer:
9am
(GIF via Here.)
10am
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11am
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12pm
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1pm
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2pm
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3pm
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4pm


(Image via Here.)
5pm

(GIF via Here.)
And that’s why I don’t have gainful employment.

 

Cover image via HERE.

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Never Hurt Your Child’s Spirit

As I approach the last few weeks of my second pregnancy, I’m in full on nesting mode. Things are getting cleaned that didn’t even know they wanted to be cleaned. Emails are getting responded to in record time. I’ve even stopped wearing a bra so that my nipples can toughen up for breastfeeding. Last Confession: I’ve already ordered a monogrammed tote bag from LL Bean with my unborn child’s name on it. (Let’s hope he looks like a ____. HA I’m not telling yet!)
The other thing I’ve been thinking about is how I’m doing as a mother and what it will be like when I have two kids. Will there be double the love? Or will each child only get half? I’ve been asking my mom, Donna, a lot of questions about how she handled two babies. She was widowed when she was pregnant with me, so I kind of consider her Super Woman when it comes to parenting.
At 65, Donna is full of advice and wisdom. When I’m having a hard day with Daisy, I often hear her voice remind me that, “If you don’t like what your child is doing, don’t worry – it will change. However, if you do like something they’re doing, don’t get used to it – it will change.” (This gives me hope for when Daisy is slapping me across the face with my iPhone, but makes me sad when she stopped saying, “neigh” in a super adorable Australian accent.)
Perhaps the most important thing Donna has ever said to me about parenting is that she never wanted to hurt my spirit. She wanted to set me up to win as much as possible. She wanted me to feel confident, deserving and capable. By allowing me to state what I was passionate about (buying the extra toy from the McDonald’s Drive-Thru), she made me feel like I mattered and that my five-year-old voice deserved to be heard. But seriously – when I wanted to skip Second Grade, Donna supported my need to challenge myself. She told me that I had her blessing, but that I would need to speak to the school principal and get permission. At 7, I walked right into the office and stated my case that Second Grade wasn’t challenging enough and I needed to be a Third Grader. They moved me up the next week. This type of parenting gave me a confidence that I am forever grateful for. I love that I’ve always felt like I could go anywhere in the world, have any job (except surgeon, let’s be honest…), and felt like I have every right to be on this planet. Thank you, Donna.
Now it’s my turn to pay it forward. Even though I’m terrified about having two kids under two, I just need to remember that all I have to do is feed them, love them and never hurt their spirits. As a blonde American named Summer, I don’t think I will have any problem being my kids’ most enthusiastic cheerleader.

 

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Two Books. One Price.

Offer ends Sunday June 7th, 2015 at 8pm AEST.

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Guest Post: Simply Gourmet In Southie

The only thing I love more than a glowing book review is anything and everything in the neighborhood of Frank’s Hot Sauce. Unfortunately, living in rural Australia makes that hard to come by. Lucky for me, Emily from Simply Gourmet in Southie whipped up a little Mango Hot Sauce that is a serious game changer.

While writing my post I got to chatting with Summer and I found out that she really loves buffalo sauce but that it is hard for her to find living in Australia. Since I follow the 21 Day Fix nutrition plan I don’t eat buffalo sauce regularly and if I do I use Franks Red Hot Original Cayenne Pepper Sauce. The majority of the other store bought sauces are full of sodium and other ingredients I can’t even pronounce!

I turned to Pinterest to research some homemade versions and came across an awesome looking mango hot sauce that caught my eye from Food for my Family. While this isn’t technically buffalo sauce it seemed like a perfect sauce to make a big batch of since it fit within my 21 Day Fix nutrition plan.

This sauce is so easy to make and barely requires any prep work. I followed the recipe exactly and the sauce is spicy!! If you want to have less heat you can use less peppers or do not include any of the habanero seeds when blending.

I can’t wait to come up with some summer recipes that use this sauce – I am thinking some spicy fish tacos!

 Recipe adapted from Food for my Family

WHAT YOU WILL NEED:

3 mangoes
4 habanero peppers
1 cup shredded carrot (approx. 2 carrots)
4 green onions
3 cloves garlic
¼ cup lime juice (approx. 1.5 limes)
3 tablespoons rice vinegar
½ teaspoon salt

Peel the mangoes (here is a quick tutorial on how to do so easily).

Remove the seeds from all but one of the habanero peppers. Add the mango, habanero peppers, shredded carrot, green onions, and garlic to a food processor. Pulse until smooth.

Transfer to a medium saucepan. Stir in the lime juice, rice vinegar, and salt. Cook on medium-high until it boils. Reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes.

Allow the sauce to cool, then press through a small mesh strainer or a sieve to remove any seeds and fruit pulp. **This step is a pain but necessary if you want a smooth sauce

Place in an airtight container or a bottle and store in the refrigerator until ready to use. The sauce will keep for several weeks.

**If you want a spicier sauce you can add additional peppers or include more seeds. If you would like less heat reduce the amount of peppers or do not blend in the seeds.

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Author Crush: Georgia Madden

Every now and then I read a book and I think, “Damn, I wish I wrote that!” That’s totally how I feel about Georgia Madden’s,  Confessions of a Once Fashionable Mum. I’m only half way through, but her novel is already so witty, entertaining and….relatable. As a mom of a 19 month old with one on the way, it’s so nice to read a funny book that chronicles the joys of motherhood in such a humorous and honest way.
Since I wasn’t quick enough to write such a fun book, I decided that I’d have to become best friends with the woman that did…. which led me to stalking Georgia on Instagram and Email. She is every bit as charming in real (Internet) life as she comes across as a writer and was kind enough to answer some questions for me!

How much of yourself is in Ally B? (The main mum in the book.)
I’d like to say I’m the perfect mother, and nothing like Ally. But that would be a big fat lie. In my less than stellar moments, of which there are many, I shout at the kids, bitch at my husband, feed them Maccas (again) rather than prepare a lovingly home cooked dinner, and have my fair share of judgy moments when someone gets excited about the latest Thermomix of macramé toilet roll holder. But, like Ally, I know it’s all just surface stuff. None of it means a thing compared to my love for my family, and how grateful I am to have them.
What is it like writing a book while raising two kids? 
Interesting. My kids are older. (seven and 11), so they are pretty excited about the whole book-writing thing, particularly when they realised they might score a little mention in the acknowledgments (and they had plenty of suggestions for what I should say, let me tell you.) But as you know yourself, writing a book is a long ‘ol process. My husband was incredibly supportive and was more than happy to take over so I could shut the door and write for hours/ days on end. But by the end of it, I was feeling guilty. There comes a point in the writing of a book where everyone and everything becomes nothing byt an annoying distractin, and when I emerged from the fog I could see just how much I’d let things slip; there were the hundred or so playdates I owed my friends, the balls of dust and dirt rolling around under the stairs, and the little fingernails that had grown so long they could double as weapons. Saying that, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. Might splash out on a cleaner next time.
This is a super broad questions, but how do you feel about the ever popular debate: Can women have it all?
I think it’s possible, perhaps just not all at the same time. It also depends on what “having it all” means to you. It would be a little tough, I imagine, to run a corporation and still be at the school gate every day at 3pm (saying that, you’d be the boss, so why not?)For me, all I ever wanted was to have a family, have time to enjoy my kids and still pursue writing, so I guess I’m living my version of “having it all.”
Can we expect a follow-up book?
I hope so! I’d love to revist Ally five years down the track and see how she copes with another child under her wing and Coco starting school.
What else are you up to?
I’m a freelance interiors jounralist, so I’m busy writing features for House & Garden magazine. I’m also a class mum at my son’s school, so I’m helping organise the school open day next week and the end of year celebrations for his Year Six class. (Yep, we start early.)
To get yourself a copy of Confessions of Once Fashionable Mum visit Booktopia or download a copy for Kindle.
Follow Georgia on Twitter HERE.

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Five Reasons Investing In A Book Is Better Than Investing In A Movie

My husband’s friend constantly argues that books take too long to read and that he’d rather just go see the movie. This drives me crazy. I just can’t sleep. I’m so excited I’m in too deep. Oooh oh oh.. (Sorry about the Britney tangent.)

Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE movies. I will seriously watch anything from The Babysitter’s Club to Trainspotting. I love them all. (Except for Gravity because who the F kills off George Clooney?!) I have no problem spending an exorbitant amount of money on iTunes and Netfllix since I live in a town with no movie theater. But let me just take a moment to defend my very dear friend, Book. (He/She doesn’t identify with a specific gender.)

I’m going to argue that buying a book is actually a much smarter investment.

Reason 1: Books last longer than movies. (Unless you’re on cocaine and reading through the night, I doubt that you’re going to finish Shantaram in a 24-hour period.)

Reason 2: Creative License. I love being able to choose what the characters look like and how the wine they’re drinking tastes. (Oh wait, that’s my wine. Because I’m reading that book for book club and that means wine club.)

Reason 3: Books make you look smarter. No one is going to look at you watching The Holiday on your iPad on the subway and think, “Damn, that girl is deep.”  Swap out that movie for a copy of Bossy Pants and they’ll at least think you have an awesome sense of humour. (If you really are going for “genius,” try reading a copy of A Brief History of Time in public.)

Reason 4: Books are conversation pieces. Once you’ve conquered anything and everything by Kurt Vonnegut, you can proudly display them on the recycled timber book shelf you made (off of Pinterest.) When your guests come over, you will of course wow them with your vast collection and talk about which specific works inspired you to be a cooler human.

Reason 5: They smell amazing. Have you ever put your nose in freshly printed book? You can get high off the toner. It’s amazing. Try sniffing that .mov file you just illegally downloaded. Smells like guilt.

I bet you totally want to go read a book now! Here are 10 random recommendations from little ole me!

1. She’s Having Her Baby by Lauren Sams (SUCH a fun and emotional read about friendship and pregnancy!)

2. The Forgotten Rebels of Eureka by Clare Wright (Such a powerful book shedding light on Australian history)

3. Faking It by Gabrielle Tozer (The most relateable intern story ever!)

4. March The Novel by Sunni Overend (Love fashion and sexual tension?)

5. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck (Makes me cry every time!)

6. Bossy Pants by Tina Fey (LOLs for days.)

7. Summerland by Elin Hilderbrand (I bought this because of the title. It was really fun to read!)

8. Eightysixed by Emily Belden (Going through a break up? READ THIS.)

9. I Was Told There’d Be Cake by Sloane Crosley (Inspired me to be an author!)

10. Summerlandish: Do As I Say, Not As I Did (Because I wrote it and it will make you feel better about yourself.)

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The Hardest Thing About Being An Ex-Pat.

I (an American) have spent the last five years living in Australia with my husband and growing family. We’ve built a beautiful life here. We’ve raised a very cute dog, had our first child, accomplished numerous career goals and made friendships that I know I will have forever. But today, I wished that I was back in America.

A very dear family friend passed away and I can’t make it back for the memorial service. 1. I’m working every day in a friend’s shop who is actually vacationing in the US right now. 2. I’m heavily pregnant. 3. I don’t have a spare $3,000 to make it to the east coast of America at the moment. It’s times like these when I feel extremely isolated and depressed. Mourning the loss of someone is never easy, but being able to gather with friends and family makes it a little bit more bearable.

My grandfather passed away in June 2013 and I couldn’t go back then either. It’s one of my biggest regrets. BUT, my family were adamant about me not flying and uprooting my life and that Papa knew that I cared and loved him. I did my best to look through old photographs of him and say my own special goodbye, but there was something about being so far away from where all of those memories were created that made it difficult.

They say it takes a village to raise a child and I miss my old village. I miss seeing all of the faces of the people who helped me become who I am today. I miss visiting with them on the back porch while the sun sets. I miss celebrating birthdays and holidays with them. I’m not ready to be the leader. I still want guidance, love, hugs and to tell these very important people in my life how much I love them. I still need them for when someone I love dies.

Yes, Facebook is wonderful. I get to live in a virtual reality where I still see all of my friends and family smiling and living their fun lives. But alas, it is not human interaction and that is what I crave. I keep going back and forth about doing this post at all because I don’t need likes or condolences online right now… I need a real hug.

Australia, I love you. But America – Oh how I miss you.

 

(Image via HERE.)

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