Sleepless Nights

Author: Veronica

  • On not drinking alcohol – Shloer Giveaway.

    I don’t drink alcohol. Part of this is the Ehlers Danlos – my body doesn’t process alcohol very well and I end up as hungover from two sips as I do from an all night bender. The other side of things is that I have an addictive personality and when I start drinking, I want to get very drunk, very quickly (and stay that way, preferably). I know this about myself, so hence I don’t drink anymore.

    Shloer got in touch with me a few weeks back to ask if I wanted to try their non-alcoholic wine. I’m a big fan of anything fruit based and fizzy, and so I agreed to try their drinks and run a giveaway.

    non alcoholic wine

    I really liked the red grape sparkling juice, because it wasn’t overly sweet. It doesn’t taste anything like wine and that’s okay with me – but if you’re a wine drinker and looking for something with the taste but without the alcohol, then this might not be for you. It is nice though – and no artificial colours or sweeteners makes it a plus in my book.

    The white grape juice tasted more like a wine and it was sweeter too, but still nice. I wasn’t as big a fan of it – probably because of the wine flavour, but I still drank the two bottles I received .

    If you’re pregnant and looking for something to serve at a baby shower, Shloer is nice. Also it would be good to serve at kids parties, etc etc.

    Because Shloer would also like you to try some of their products, they’ve offered me an amazing hamper to giveaway!

    hamper hamper list

    Frankly, I’m a bit envious that I don’t get one of these hampers too! How nice does that stuff look?

    If you’d like to win, leave me a comment below letting me know where you’d serve Shloer, and why. I’ll pick the best entry.

    Competition closes on the 10th of July. One entry per household. Entry is only open to Australian addresses. Etc etc. All the standard stuff. No offensive entries.

    —

    I received four bottles of Shloer to try in exchange for this giveaway. Opinions are my own. Normally I wouldn’t do something like this unpaid, but the giveaway component made it worthwhile for you guys.

    —

    After much deliberation, Toni, you are my lucky winner! I’ll be in touch shortly.

  • Evelyn pulls to standing

    If you’re on twitter, yesterday you might have noticed my ecstatic tweet about Evelyn pulling herself to standing. I am SO proud. Tonight, I got it on camera.

    Evelyn pulls to standing 002

    Evelyn pulls to standing 005

    Evelyn pulls to standing 009

    Evelyn pulls to standing 011

    Evelyn pulls to standing 013

    Evelyn pulls to standing 015

    Evelyn pulls to standing 018

    Evelyn pulls to standing 020

    Evelyn pulls to standing 024

    Evelyn pulls to standing 026

    She thinks she’s very clever.

    I agree.

  • #Iamnotaproperfeminist BECAUSE VAGINAS*: Why we started the hashtag

    Yesterday morning I was on the phone to Frogpondsrock. We were bemoaning the fact that the #convoyofcleavage had sparked such disparaging language, that some feminist circles were angry about the terminology used, and the “slacktivism” of the whole thing.

    I can’t remember who said it first, but one of us stated that we obviously weren’t proper feminists because we don’t know the secret feminist language/we like our husbands/don’t think feminism should be an exclusive club.

    Then we got the giggles, because we think we’re hilarious. Suddenly, we had a twitter hashtag on our hands.

    Thus is began with both of us tweeting on the #Iamnotaproperfeminist hashtag and amusing ourselves.

    We wanted to poke gentle fun at the idea of there being a “right” way to be a feminist. Sometimes, people in the know get so hung up on the terminology used that they forget women all over the world are coming at feminism from a perspective unique to themselves. We’re not all the same person, with the same circumstances. To state unequivocally that feminism is THIS THING and not THAT THING is to discount the experience of women different to you.

    By yesterday evening, our hashtag had taken off, grown wings and flown far away from where it started.

    All across twitter, women and men were joining in to promote feminism without borders. And not just cis women, but trans women too. I count this as an extra success, because if their tweets are anything to go by, trans women are told they’re not able to feminist properly more often than I am.

    Feminism has become something quite narrowly defined in recent years. Women who study feminism at Uni bristle at those of us who didn’t complete a degree calling ourselves feminists.

    It’s all a bit ridiculous.

    How do you define feminism anyway?

    With all the drama and terminology complaints, it’s no wonder that young girls have been stepping back from calling themselves feminist. Who can be bothered when you have to always make sure you’re using the perfect word for the job, and inevitably, we all end up “doing it wrong” anyway.

    Young women want to be feminists. We want equality. We just don’t want to have to constantly talk about what feminism is and isn’t – and I’m pretty sure that we don’t want women who are further along the paths of education (self, or otherwise) to be pointing out how we’re not being the perfect feminist.

    I am not a proper feminist hit back at the stereotypes, at the exclusionary language, and it showcased the discomfort a lot of us were feeling at being told there was only one true way to do this feminism thing.

    I am not a proper feminist, because there is no such thing.

    And that’s why it’s awesome.

    —

    * Because VAGINAS reference from here.

  • Evelyn resorts to cannibalism.

    Evelyn snuggling

    At 2am, Evelyn had a big seizure. I poked her cheek, changed her position, shook her hands and finally settled in waiting for it to pass, listening to her breathing change. Normally, middle of the night seizures end with Evelyn needing resettling and then falling back asleep. Not last night though, as she came out of it, realised I was watching her and decided that it was time to play.

    First, she needed to examine my ears. I’m not sure what she thought the things stuck to the side of my head were previously, but last night they were the most interesting things ever. Then she bit each of my fingers in turn, presumably to make sure they were all made of flesh. She flipped and spun, bit my nipple – a new trick, turned herself into a baby hat draped around my head, and finally, FINALLY, fell back asleep after blowing raspberries all over my hair.

    I am not at my finest at 2am, let alone 2am on a day that has included having the flu, but I had to laugh at the glee on Evelyn’s face when she clambered all over me.

    Babies are nice, and Evelyn is the nicest baby of all. She mostly smells good, she’s very snuggly and we’re working on blunting her teeth with rusks so that cannibalism doesn’t become a life choice.

    Evelyn has learned to commando crawl and she is very fast. She chases Amy down to her bedroom, giggling, before Amy carries her back out to me, flopped in her arms. Amy puts her on the floor and races off to resume her game and Evelyn chases her as fast as she can, before Amy drags her back to the living room. Repeat, ad infinitum.

    She tried to fly the other day. I can’t say she’s very good at it, although I suspect she bounced when she flung herself off the edge of my bed after a nap. I hadn’t tidied my bedroom yet and she landed on an abandoned pile of pillows and a spare doona. Messiness has its upsides. The next day after her nap she shouted at me and I found her peering over the edge of the bed looking at the floor fearfully. I think I need to build a better pillow fort to stop her getting out of her cot.

    Evelyn bites now. Often. Cheekily, she looks at me while she’s breastfeeding and CHOMP she goes, before she smiles at me prettily. I’ve tried explaining that milk tastes terrible when laced with blood, but so far, no luck. I’ve also tried shouting, cringing and grumpily putting her on the floor with no more breasts, but nothing works. The worst part is not actually being bitten, it’s waiting for the bite. It’s quite hard to relax when you’re waiting for a cannibalistic baby-toddler to nip you. She also tried biting my neck, so maybe she’s part vampire. I hear that’s a “thing” now, if Amy is to be believed.

    She is amazing, and bright and bubbly and she makes me laugh every day – usually by trying to eat my face. She snuggles, and adores her siblings and causes untold chaos.

    We wouldn’t have it any other way.

  • Evelyn thinks our games are hilarious.

    Evelyn likes to throw her toys and have me pick them up.