Summer Land's Blog, page 7

#WCW: Rory Uphold From Only In HelLA

Every now and then you meet someone and you think, “God, they’re awesome.” That’s exactly how I feel about the amazingly talented and funny, Rory Uphold. (And not just because she can pull off any type of hat.) Her YouTube series, Only in HelLA has been a raging success and I’m sofa king excited for the second season to premiere!  It will no doubt makes us laugh at the greatness (and absurdity) that is Los Angeles.

My favorite from the first season:

Subscribe to her channel HERE. 

You should also totally follow her on Instagram.

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Am I Selfish?

Have you ever promised something to someone and then had to back out? I have and it feels awful. Yesterday, I said that I would foster a dog that was due to be put to sleep that day. Only issue – I have a toddler, another dog and no fence. When I explained my grand plans to my husband, he quickly shut me down and laid out all of the reasons why we most definitely could not take in a large mixed breed dog. What if he bit our daughter? What if he didn’t get along with our dog? What if he ran out onto our road? It took me two phone calls, but I finally mustered up the courage to back out. I do not know the fate of the dog and of course that makes me cry.

It’s like the time I told a very dear friend that she could have my eggs. (You read that right.) This friend needed an egg donor and I volunteered mine. It wasn’t until I spoke to my mom and googled “egg donor” that I learned how invasive and hard the process is. I hadn’t had my babies yet and didn’t want to risk any complications down there. When I told my friend that I couldn’t give her my eggs, she cried. But not because I wasn’t giving her my eggs anymore, but because I had truly considered it. And I had. I loved the idea of being able to help someone make their dreams come true. Unfortunately, I had to think of my dreams too.

I feel like this happens to me all of the time. I want to take in all of the stray animals, share my eggs, carry someone’s baby, and donate to every worthy cause I see on Facebook even though I don’t have any money to spare at the moment. Does the fact that I am not currently hoarding animals while being knocked up with someone else’s baby make me a selfish person? Or am I normal for thinking of myself and family first? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. Let’s get the conversation started on Twitter and Facebook with #TheRightThing

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Blog Watch: B Loved Boston

As a self-admitted computer junkie, my drug of choice is a solid personal blog. I love diving into someone else’s life and seeing the world through their Instagram filters. This week – I’m hitting B Loved Boston pretty hard. Biana (who puts the B in “B Loved Boston”) is a Florida native (like me!), Boston lover (like me!) and blogger (like me!) She is totally in the know about all of the great Boston restaurants, shops, blogs, events, AND BOOKS! Speaking of…. she posted this lovely review of Summerlandish: Do As I Say, Not As I Did. 

Definitely visit her BLOG and see what else Biana is up to!

 

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15 Shampoos That Take Me Back.

Shampoo and I go way back. Whenever I smell a certain brand, I get super nostalgic and am immediately taken to a time of either diapers, my weird OCD stage in middle school, high school football games, college hangover days, backpacking or my wedding morning. Here’s a look at how much of a shampoo slut I am:

1987- Welcome to the world, Summer! This is what clean hair and love smells like:

(Image via here.)

1994- Followed in my mom’s footsteps to Vidal Sassoon’s greatness:

(Image via here.)

1995- The year that I wished I had dandruff after using Pert at a friend’s house.

(Image via here.)

1996- The year that I learned that rich kids used this:

(Image via here.)

1997- But I used this because it was shaped like a fish:

(Image via here.)

1998- The OCD year. 1. Classify Beanie Babies 2. Wash with Daily Defense 3. Watch Wonder Years. In that order.

 

(Image via here.)

2000- The year that I discovered hair dye at the grocery store…and Color Vive shampoo!

(Image via here.)

2001- The year I learned what an orgasm was:

(Image via here.)

2002- My BF4Ever used Aussie, therefore I used Aussie. (Little did I know this was foreshadowing so much.)

(Image via here.)

2003- When John Frieda was GOD.

(Image via here.)

2004- Excessive flat iron use required these bad boys:

(Image via here.)

2006: Let’s be honest, washing my hair in college meant this:

(Image via here.)

2008- This pretty girl in college said that she used Dove Shampoo, so I started using Dove Shampoo.

(Image via here.)

2009- Backpacking on a budget meant nourishing my hair follicles with this:

(Image via here.)

2012- Grown up and rolling in the Benjamins meant I got to use THIS:

(Image via here.)

2015- I’m a mom now so I don’t have any idea what I wash my hair with anymore.

Can’t wait to see what the next 30 years of hair washing brings!

(Cover image via here.)

 

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You Got Me.

It’s currently April Fool’s Day in Australia which means I still have time to warn my American friends to not believe shit they hear tomorrow. Even though I haven’t been tricked this year, I ALMOST was and have been in the past…

1. THE TATTOO

I was almost totally duped today when one of my readers posted this epic photo:

As someone who wants to believe that this is real life and that I’m worthy of being tattooed on a man’s ass, I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. And then the comments started coming in. One guy pointed out that the redness was executed with ink from a pen, “but shaving the ass was a nice touch.” I also noted that the inked part wasn’t raised. (I don’t have FOUR painfully early 2000’s tattoos for nothing…)

Summer’s Gullibility: ALMOST Fooled.

2. THE RELATIONSHIP STATUS

All it takes is a quick click of the finger to let your friends know (think) that you’re engaged on Facebook. I have to applaud this girl from college for epically pranking her family and ME three years in a row.

Summer’s Gullibility: FOOLED- Even sent her wedding planning blog links.

 

3. THE WE’RE MOVING

As an American ex-pat living in Australia, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting other like-minded girls like myself. (By that I mean American women who can’t resist hot Aussie dudes.) I love having friends to talk about the joys of bagels and buffalo chicken calzones with. That’s why it’s SO UPSETTING when one moves back to the Mainland… Or PRETENDS they’re moving back….

 

Summer’s Gullibility: FOOLED. And devastated.

 

4. THE PENGUINS CAN FLY

I truly believed the BBC. You can imagine my disappointment when I learned that this was a hoax…

Summer’s Gullibility: FOOLED.

 

5. THE I GOT A GIRL PREGNANT

No, this wasn’t a prank on me, BUT I feel like I should put it here just in case you get a pregnancy scare tomorrow…

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The New Oldies.

When I was a kid, I used to LOVE when my mom would take us to Naples, Florida to visit our grandparents. As soon as we were south of Tampa, we’d switch the radio to the Golden Oldies station (aka the Mouldy Oldies) and listen to Frankie Valli, The Supremes and Annette Funicello sing about rag dolls, love and beach parties. I loved that Donna knew every word to every song.

Now that I’m a mom, I always wonder if Daisy will love what I now consider, “Oldies.” The list I’ve compiled in my head (and below) is starting to feel wildly inappropriate for a small child’s ears. Maybe Daisy will think I’m a “Cool Mom.” Or maybe she’ll just have more to talk about with her therapist when I drop her off at school while singing Eminem’s, “White America.”

The New Oldies Playlist

1. Petey Pablo, “Raise Up.”

Nothing is more nostalgic to me than the sound of Petey Pablo telling my teenaged self to take off my shirt and twist it round my head like a helicopter.

2. Eminem, “Superman”

You high, Baby? YEahhhh

3. Britney Spears, “Touch Of My Hand”

Britney normalized masturbation for a lot of people, and that should be shared with our youth.

4. City High, “What Would You Do?”

How else would I know what “smoking rock” is?

5. Salt-N-Peppa, “Shoop”

Singing this at my family reunion when I was 8 was actually a huge hit. Nothing is cuter than a blonde girl unknowingly singing about dick.

6. TLC, “Red Light Special”

I’ll let you touch it, if you like to go down. (Totally helped me learn where my vagina is.)

7. N*Sync, “Digital Get Down”

I’m going to argue that this is a really important song for people in long distance relationships.

8. Dixie Chicks, “Goodbye Earl”

Lesson: You should murder your friend’s husband if he beats her up. #Truth

9. 50 Cent, “In Da Club”

I’m sorry but my only regret is that I didn’t play this in the delivery room when Daisy was exiting from my womb.

10. And of course, Eminem’s, “White America”

Modern day poetry.

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True Life: I’m A YouTube Vlogger.

The only thing that could make this announcement better is if MTV came to Mudgee to film a reality show about my journey to vlogging. (MTV, I’m here. Waiting.)

In case you don’t know “vlog” means video-blog. (You’re welcome, Mom.)

I decided to start putting videos of myself on the Internet because it worked so well for Kim Kardashian and Paris Hilton. Only problem – my vagina doesn’t look good on film. (I don’t think…) That left me with my only other asset – a hoard of embarrassing stories and confessions to share with the world! It’s been almost 2 months and even though I can’t watch the videos I make, (It’s like hearing yourself on an answering machine EEEEEK!) I’m loving the feedback I’m getting. You guys are SO FUNNY and have so many hilarious confessions. Thank you for sharing!!! I really want the world to #RespectTheJourney of life because no matter how hard we try, over plucked eyebrows and clear bra straps happen.

Below is a link to my channel- please HIT SUBSCRIBE, watch, share and let the world know that Summer Land is now a YouTube sensation. Don’t forget to #OMGMeToo because I KNOW that you have some buried secrets in that dark mind of yours!

CLICK FOR SUMMER’S GLORIOUS YOUTUBE CHANNEL.

So far I have eight videos! You can have a gander below!

EPISODE 1: VASELINE

EPISODE 2: ACNE

EPISODE 3: WHY IS THIS EMBARRASSING?

EPISODE 4: POOP

EPISODE 5: MASSAGES

EPISODE 6: BOX OF TAMPONS

EPISODE 7: CRYING OVER BOYS PLAYLIST

EPISODE 8: THERMOMIX

 

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THE Father Daughter Dance of All Father Daughter Dances: Boomer and Hillary

One of the greatest moments in my life was witnessing my bestie, Hillary, marry her ridiculously good looking soul mate. (She is equally stunning, so the union made tons of sense.) On top of their adorable vows, the bride managed to make us even more enviable of her life by putting on this little number with her dad, Boomer.

 

HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT TO BE HER?!?! Lucky for you, Hillary took some time to answer some very important questions for me.

1. Have you always known that you wanted to do something spectacular and worthy of YouTube at your wedding?

I’ve always enjoyed watching really great surprise father-daughter, bride groom, mother-son dances, however never anticipated that I would try to pull something like that off. Apparently, my dad felt differently as it was shockingly all of his idea! I don’t hate attention, so I was easily talked on board.

 

2. Was it a huge secret? Who was in on it?

Such a huge secret! For the longestttt time, it was a sacred pact between me, my dad and our VERY patient choreographer, Djenie Helne. The one exception was one onlooker/fellow co-worker who witnessed our entire first practice coincidentally while getting in his evening workout at the company gym where we were introduced to our routine. So much embarrassment. As we got closer to the wedding date, I would spill the beans to randoms that weren’t invited to the wedding just because I was about to burst (and I suck at keeping really good secrets). Subsequently, seconds before walking down the aisle, I word vomited to a bridesmaid who was helping me with one last potty break.

 

3. How much practice went in to executing such a perfect performance?

It was pretty sad how long it took us to overcome our rhythm deficiencies. We were introduced to the choreography exactly one month before the wedding date and packed in about 3-4 practices every week. We would squeeze in a sneaky 30 minutes here, or a 2 hour rehearsal there. I was running out of lies! I can only pretend to be working out for so long.

 

4. Who was more of the “natural” when it came to picking up mad dance skills?

As soon as I translated the dance to strict 8-counts (I really did this in a word document), my inner cheerleader was roaring. Unfortunately, it’s not socially acceptable to have “sharp” dance moves anymore so I spent most of my practices trying to not “stick” the routine and make it look more natural and fluid. Boomer, my dad, packed in 55 years of dance lessons into one month. He even purchased $75 dancing shoes because he was certain his problem was his sneakers’ grip, causing his feet to not move as easily. I explained that you can’t buy rhythm at the dance store. Through it all, he was a fantastic sport and we had so much fun laughing at ourselves and our lack of dance skills. So to answer your question- neither of us?

 

5. Any advice for brides out there looking to be awesome?!

1) Buy your dress big, don’t rely on anorexia during your engagement. Sometimes a bride just needs to stress eat her way through the planning without worry. 2) You’ve heard it a million times, so I’ll say it again. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Or even the big stuff, really. You are going to be surrounded by everyone you love and care about- soak. it. up. 3) No one cares that you have embossed cocktail napkins or plate chargers. Only about 10% of your guests will take home a personalized coozie. Save your money. 4) The father-daughter dance was the perfect distraction I needed from the overwhelming anxiety I had a month out. Find yours and get lost in it! You’ll be pining over a mental vacation after hysterically crying over your seating chart.

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Something To Write Home About.

The first time I was pregnant, I was horribly sick. But what was worse than the all day Spew Fest I called my life, was the constipation. What little food I could keep down became hard and dense like the red clay earth in beautiful Australia.

During my first trimester, I was cleverly trying to hide the fact that I was up the duff while at my friend, Nelly’s, birthday party. While all of my friends were drinking wine and giggling away, I scooted off to the bathroom.

I felt like I was going to vomit.
I desperately needed to poop. Sort of.

I was past the point of constipated and convinced that I must have a bowel obstruction. (Had I accidentally swallowed a metal BBQ grill brush bristle?! That’s a real thing you know!) It was as if I had eaten mozzarella sticks deep-fried in Liquid Nails glue. Everything felt heavy and stuck. The weight in my bowels was unbearable. I sat down on Nelly’s toilet and tried to practice Lamaze breathing as I worked this bitch of a turd out. Since I didn’t want to strain (huge fear of having haemorrhoids), I decided to calmly take deep breaths and not rush the birthing process. I stared at a bathmat and counted the stripes during my first push. The second one brought my gaze to an electric toothbrush. I wondered about how many people had used one of those as a vibrator. By my third push I felt some (cough) widening. My poop was crowning.

Careful not to strain, I inhaled through my nose, and then did short breaths and pushes to get the head out. By my 7th push I was just flat out sweating. I took off my shirt and kicked my shorts and undies off, all the while this giant California Raisin was hanging halfway out of me. Desperate, I remembered a weird bit of bathroom advice Donna once gave me. I climbed up on the toilet so that I was in a gargoyle squatting position. I was hoping that by perching I’d be able to allow for this poop from hell to escape. Finally I felt some movement. I felt my anus expand even further and then quickly tighten. Expecting to see a bowling ball, I was shocked when something the size of a rat pellet floated in the toilet. But enough about that. There was more.

But this next doozy was something to write home about.

Dear Donna,

You would not believe what is coming out of me right now. It feels as if it is caught inside my anus. The edges feel like shards of glass. I reach with my fingers to feel and it seems a sharp dry piece of poop has snagged on the outside of my rectum. I have tears in my eyes. Sweat is blinding me. I have to take action. I reach back and pull my butt cheek and anus open to help angle this thing out. If I don’t make it, please tell Lauren that she can have the special edition Britney Spears and N*Sync CD I got at McDonalds in 2000.

Love, Summer

PLOP. (There is a God.)

Once I cleaned myself up, I walked outside. All of the girls at the table asked me where I had been. I hadn’t realized that an hour had passed by. Feeling defeated I simply looked at them and said, “I’m pregnant! And constipated. And nauseous. And tired. And scared. But excited!” Everyone was thrilled. Alicia, a stunning Australian woman (seriously – stems for days) who is already a mom (or mum as she would say) was so supportive! She humble bragged about not being sick at all with her kids, but offered some great support and advice. Nelly called dibs on my baby shower. (She is the BEST activities director ever.) She also got me some Metamucil to try to loosen things up down there.

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What Kind Of Mom Are You Going To Be?

As I approach the middle of my second pregnancy, I can’t help but feel like I am way more prepared for this child. I finally feel like I have this whole “Mom” thing down. But oh how I remember when I was first pregnant with my daughter, Daisy…

In between irrational thoughts of freak accidents and fears of something happening to my pregnancy, I constantly thought about what kind of mom I would be. What would my personal parenting brand represent? Would I be a helicopter parent? A Tiger Mom? Would I cook all of my baby’s food from scratch? Or would I just buy the pre-made stuff? What about drugs? Did I want an epidural? What kind of mom car would I drive? My current 1989 Toyota Corolla wasn’t a place for a baby. Maybe I’d go the Safe Mom route and get a Volvo. But I’d had a BMW X5 on my vision board since 2008. I could also go the cool Hippie Mom way and get a Toyota Hybrid. So many options. I just knew that I definitely did NOT want a minivan. My mom, Donna, had a minivan for us growing up. Even though she could seat 7, the embarrassment I felt at the pick-up loop at school was not worth it. I decided to make a list:

Hippie Mom

Hybrid car or move to a city with public transport.
Other option – move to small town where we walk or ride push bikes.
Grow all of our own food, have a great compost pile
No vaccines
Natural water birth at home

Safe Mom

Volvo SUV
Live in a gated community
Only buy organic food
Yes Vaccines
Monitored birth at a private hospital

Dangerous Mom

Motorcycle
Lives next to an unfenced body of water
ONLY feeds kids candy bars and fizzy drinks
What are vaccines?
Toilet birth

Cool Mom

BMW X5 SUV
Live in an awesome renovated home
Buys organic food, but is also down to order Dominos
Yes to vaccines
Birth is birth – open to drugs

Donna Mom

Mini Van
Lives in lots of different homes
Loves fancy food and fast food
Yes to vaccines
C-sections

Turns out, I’m a Summer Mom – a nice and healthy mix of all of those types.  I vaccinated my baby, breastfed her for 13 months, let her have chocolate, fed her super healthy food, but also sometimes microwaved heavily processed mashed potatoes (and ate half of them because that much butter is always right.) I put her in daycare two days a week so I could continue to focus on my career. Two turned in to five and that’s okay. I really couldn’t have planned what type of parent I would be. It just happened.

For all of your pregnant women out there – don’t stress about what type of mom society tells you to be. Just do you and what makes you and your baby happy and healthy humans!

I’m also proud to state that I’ve only showed signs of becoming a Stage Mom twice…so far.

(Image via Babble.)

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