Soapbox

I wrote an article at The Shake about beauty, and the power of Amanda Palmer’s tweets today. In order to properly illustrate my point and not look like a hypocrite, I took a photo of myself with the words “Photoshop This” written on my chest.

Amanda Palmer then used my photo in her collage, which was then reblogged by Neil Gaiman.

And there is is. Internet fame achieved. My breasts on Amanda Palmer and Neil Gaiman’s tumblrs.

screenshot neil gaiman tumblr my boobs

The geek in me is suitably thrilled. The feminist is just pleased that the message about body acceptance is getting out there. Love your body. It’s the only one you’ve got and you can’t make it different by hating it.

{ 3 comments }

seagull Kim Foale

My son has gone out with his Daddy, my big girl is at school and my baby is asleep. I’ve just written three articles for The Shake, edited some others, eaten four chocolate biscuits and made a poached egg. My kitchen is semi-tidy, the cat litter is scooped and I’ve had a cup of tea. I watered the greenhouse and strung new lines for the beans. I snipped away the dying pumpkins, infected with plague, and I’ve eaten all the red cherry tomatoes, feeling vaguely guilty that I wasn’t saving them for everyone else.

I didn’t realise how stressed I was until I spent some time in silence, without anyone shouting at me. Isaac shouts because he is FOUR and FOUR YEAR OLDS have trouble with voice modulation. Amy shouts because her classroom is loud and it turns into a habit, trying to be louder than everything else. Evelyn shouts because she is frustrated to be almost nine months old with no body control. And Nathan and I shout because we’re dramatic, and even though our shouting often ends in laughter, it’s still loud.

So. Silence.

SIIIIILENCE.

It’s nice. Not that it’s actually silent, of course. The kittens are playing and I can hear the scritch scritch scritch of kitten paws through the house. Evelyn sighs occasionally, and there is music quietly running in the background, making sure it’s not so silent that the sound of my fingers on the keys will wake her up.

I’ve been annoyed at the Internet, frankly. The list of blogs I enjoy reading is steadily shrinking, as blogs I enjoy fall off the radar and stop updating and good blogs are failing to pop up in their place. Maybe I’m a snob, but frankly, when I click on a blog and there are eight typos in the first two paragraphs, I’m going to spend the next few days shitty about it. Because REALLY? THAT’S THE STANDARD I’M MEANT TO ASPIRE TO?

Sorry Internet, but I just can’t do it. I’m aspiring to be something better than pretty and whimsical. I want to read writing, and reality, and truth-telling, not housewives with nothing better to do than post photos of themselves wearing whimsical tutus and stupid looking flowers in their hair.

I just want more from you. Is that too much to ask?

Partly, this is Zoey and Kate’s fault.  They made me Editor at The Shake and now I can’t read anything without my Editor cap on, quietly picking up the run-on sentences needing commas and finding myself lying in a pool of blood when there’s a loose/lose error and someone’s fucked up there/their/they’re. I mean JESUS PEOPLE, READ YOUR SHIT BACK. It’s like you ENJOY watching me stab out my own eyes.

Their fault.

You can blame them.

Now my baby has woken up. I was stabbing my keys too hard.

I blame you.

 

 

{ Comments on this entry are closed }

This morning I received unsolicited free products in the mail. My children were excited – since I stopped saying yes to PR stuff, the packages here have dropped off and they’ve been unimpressed with their lack of free stuff. Even when that free stuff was a handcream I was never going to blog about.

We opened up the box and discovered Kellogg’s new liquid breakfast drinks.

Now, I need to state, Kellogg’s have, in the past, been incredibly good to me. They’ve sent me cereal when Isaac wouldn’t eat anything except cereal. They’ve sponsored me to attend conferences and flown me around the countryside.

But this time they’ve missed the mark. In fact, they’ve missed it by so much that they’re no longer even playing in my ballpark.

Firstly, the two breakfast drinks I was sent were CocoPops and Nutrigrain. Both cereals I refuse to buy because they have too much sugar to not enough good stuff ratio.

Secondly, we’ve recently started Isaac on the FODMAP diet. Kellogg’s didn’t know this, so they get a pass. In fact, hardly anyone knew this yet, because I’ve not really spoken about it. So while I wasn’t going to give the sweetened milk drinks to my children for breakfast, I was kind of hoping they could have them as a treat. I’m not averse to treats. I have them all the time.

I read the ingredients though and was a bit flabbergasted. Firstly, low fat milk? LOW FAT MILK? Geez. I know we’re currently in a food culture swing of “fat is bad, OMG FAT”, but it’s not true. Children especially need fat for their brain development and therefore, in my opinion children should always eat full fat dairy.

The second ingredient on both products was sugar.

Head, desk.

You know that there is something wrong when we’re removing fat from food and replacing it with sugar.

Listen, I’m not anti-sugar. In fact, I happen to adore sugar. But having sugar as the second ingredient in a product designed to be a kids breakfast drink?

No. Just no.

The ingredients then go on to list a whole host of other things, including stabilisers, flavours, added minerals and vitamins (FYI, adding extra calcium and vitamin D doesn’t get you past the sugar debacle) “flavours” and acidity regulators. All this in something that is essentially chocolate milk. For breakfast.

I mentioned to Mum that it was terrible, but that I wasn’t going to say anything because let’s face it, Kellogg’s has spent a lot of money on me in the last 2 years. But then, she asked, doesn’t that effectively mean that they’ve bought my silence?

I don’t want to be that person who plays down the negatives of something because of brand loyalty, or fear of opportunities passing by later down the track.

So, Kellogg’s, hear me out.

I think these breakfast drinks are a ridiculous product. You’d be better off marketing them as pure chocolate milk, rather than something nutritious and suitable for breakfast every day. That’s my honest feedback and you’re welcome to it.

{ Comments on this entry are closed }

Actually, it’s not disgusting or offensive

by Veronica on December 17, 2012

in Soapbox

Sitting outside of Kmart today in a quiet corner, I was nursing Evelyn. Isaac had followed his father into the newsagent and so I sat, alone, holding Evie’s hand to stop her tearing at her face with her flaily little hands and people watching.

A woman walked in, trailed by her bogan boyfriend and bogan friend. Pregnant and wearing leggings as pants, she saw me and her face looked like she’d sucked on something sour and unexpected.

I smiled at her and she pointedly looked at me and said loudly “I can’t believe she’s breastfeeding in public like that. It’s disgusting and offensive.”

I was shocked and more than a little angry.

So.

Dear Bogan Woman outside of Kmart,

Breastfeeding my baby is not disgusting, nor is it offensive. I was, and am always, discreet and I can only imagine that you find the sight of a naked baby head utterly appalling, because actually, you couldn’t see a single centimetre of my skin, let alone my breast.

You know what was offensive? Your stupid behaviour. Your disgust at me minding my own business. Your insistence on making sure that everyone else around us knew you were offended.

Actually offensive; your leggings as pants. You couldn’t see my nipple, but I sure as hell could see your crotch.

Thanks for that.

Merry Christmas.

 

{ Comments on this entry are closed }

It seems that as the Mummyblogging genre continues to explode in Australia, there are some concerns about Mummybloggers, our ethics and how we spend our time. Ignoring entirely why anyone else has the right to dictate what my spare time is spent on, I thought that I’d address some of the issues that “concerned Internet citizens” seem to have.

“Mummybloggers are unethical”

Unfortunately here, you can’t lump all blogging mums into the same boat. As a community we are diverse, with many different opinions on what ethics actually are. So with this, I cannot speak for anyone except myself and the small section of bloggers that I interact with daily.

Is there unethical behaviour carried out by bloggers? Probably, but first you’ve got to decide exactly what “ethical” and “unethical” mean to you – and then remember that not everyone else will agree with your definition. Labelling something that you don’t agree with as “unethical” is similar to labelling a blogger a “sell out” for promoting something you wouldn’t touch.

As bloggers, we don’t have an official code of ethics. However, as media (and yes, we are media – new media, but media nonetheless) we need to act with a level of responsibility. Parenting blogs are usually opinion based and therefore, we’re less likely to say, incite violence, or hate crimes – unlike some traditional media “big names” we could mention.

Any blogger behaving consistently in an unethical way, will lose readers and traffic pretty quickly. Therefore there’s natural selection at work. Our readers are not stupid and will not hang around if they think they’re being duped.

“Mummybloggers are paid to only write positive reviews”

I receive a lot of product in the mail. I don’t write about the products I don’t like. It’s as simple as that. I know most other parenting bloggers work on the same premise. If product X gave me a rash, I’ll let the PR company know that it’s not a fit for me and won’t be on the blog. I’m not wasting my time and energy writing about a product I don’t like.

The exception here might be writing about the so-called organic shampoo that my kids bathed the cat in, and promptly sent the cat bald. But while it’s an amusing anecdote, I don’t want to be dealing with angry company lawyers and threats of defamation.

So if I don’t love it, I won’t write about it.

Paid posts are clearly labelled at the beginning of the post. Usually these are in conjunction with a giveaway, and the company is only paying me for the time it takes to write the post, moderate the comments, organise the entries and draw the giveaway. Let me repeat, THAT is what I’m being paid for – NOT my opinion. If a product sucks, if it isn’t a fit with my blog, if I don’t like the company, I won’t write about it for any amount of money. Neither will the bloggers I know.

I get a lot of offers to host paid guest posts on things that my readers won’t care about. I turn them down.

“Shouldn’t they be spending time with their children instead?”

OH! Those dastardly mummybloggers, faffing about on the Internet reviewing their fripperies while their poor neglected children languish in the background, dying of starvation.

This seems to be the opinion of a lot of people. That apparently, once you’ve birthed a screaming squalling baby, then you shall never have spare time again. This is the most bullshit argument of the lot of them, frankly.

All adults have spare time – what we choose to do with it is up to us. You might watch crappy reality TV – I will blog. Children aren’t awake 24/7, nor are they as needy as some people seem to think they are. Both of my children love playing made up games together without my intervention, just as much as they love a family game of cards. Sometimes I just don’t have to be there with them. Sometimes, they really want me to go away. I’m good with this.

Also, no one complains if I take time out from my children to cook dinner, or to weed the garden, or to read a book. Apparently it’s only the Internet that is a problem.

This complaint is followed closely by…

“If those women have so much time to spend online, they ought to be out working in a REAL job.”

Since when is motherhood not a real job? What misogonystic bullshit are you trying to pull on me today?

Blogging is a spare time thing. I blog/tweet/facebook when my children are sleeping, or when I’m not otherwise engaged in hands on parenting/household running. Sometimes I can knock a blog post out in a 20 minute block of time – other times I write a paragraph every hour over the course of a day.

You tell me about a “real job” that allows me the kind of flexibility that blogging does and I’ll laugh in your face. Right before I call you a liar.

PARENTING is my real job. Raising my children, nurturing them, creating a safe and supportive environment for them – THAT is my real job.

Blogging is my hobby.

To sum up:

A lot of the concerns about mummyblogging come from people who don’t know very much about it. To them, I invite you to have a click around and see if you find anything you like. My blog may not be your cup of tea, but as a genre, we are a very different lot and there really is a something for everyone.

If you look long enough, you’ll find women to make you laugh and women to make you cry, as well as everything in between.

 

{ Comments on this entry are closed }