This recipe will change your life

I’ve shared a few er, not so healthy recipes on my blog in the past – there’s the rainbow cake that actually worked, mars bar slices which are heavenly and the cheesecake Easter eggs I boasted about. But I can also cook savoury! In fact let’s be honest I cook more than I bake because there’s that silly tradition they call dinner every night.

While salad is technically not cooking, my salad dressing is my “most asked for recipe”.  I make it often (actually always) and every single time someone new tastes it they ask for the recipe.  Every time.

And I always share it – I think somebody asking me for a recipe is the highest compliment I could get.

So try it…

Lana’s Salad DressingImage

2/3 cup oil

1/3 cup brown vinegar

1/3 cup soft brown sugar
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5 tbs whole egg mayonnaise (please use a brand that uses free range eggs)

3 tsps crushed garlic

3 tsps mild English mustard

Shake t up with some salt and pepper.

Enjoy

And yes, you can win friends with salad

What is your most asked for recipe?

How would you react if you saw THIS at your local Westfield?

I am a sucker for a flashmob. Long after everyone started to get bored with people singing in shopping centres and at airports I was eagerly trawling the internet for people standing in formation and singing in public.

This latest flashmob is actually an ad for a museum and the people aren’t in fact singing (in fact at first I thought they were terrorists) but it’s a flashmob!  And it’s very er, cultured… in a men in costume with swords kind of way. Take a look

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWmAYh3etXk&w=560&h=315]
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Truth be told if I was in the shopping centre at the time I would have had a heart attack and probably died. And am I the only one wondering what happened to the bird deposited onto the ground at the 44 second mark?

What do you think? How would you react to people swinging in with guns and swords at your local shopping centre?

Where do you draw the line with what you say online?

Isabella Dutton (photo from The Daily Mail)

Isabella Dutton (photo from The Daily Mail)

I am always careful in what I put online – especially when it comes to my child. I check with him if I share a photo that he is in it and I am mindful of not putting anything out there that I would not want him to read at any time. Not just now but in the future.

It is with this in mind that I was quite taken aback when I read this brutally honest post from Isabella Dutton aptly named “The mother who says having these two children is the biggest regret of her life”

Isabella is 57 now and her two children Jo and Stuart are adults. She has told the world via an article in the Daily Mail about how much she resented her children.  How she wished she’d never had them.

She writes in part

“My son Stuart was five days old when the realisation hit me like a physical blow: having a child had been the biggest mistake of my life.

Even now, 33 years on, I can still picture the scene: Stuart was asleep in his crib. He was due to be fed but hadn’t yet woken.

I heard him stir but as I looked at his round face on the brink of wakefulness, I felt no bond. No warm rush of maternal affection.

I felt completely detached from this alien being who had encroached upon my settled married life and changed it, irrevocably, for the worse.

I was 22 when I had Stuart, who was a placid and biddable baby. So, no, my feelings were not sparked by tiredness, nor by post-natal depression or even a passing spell of baby blues.

Quite simply, I had always hated the idea of motherhood. In that instant, any lingering hope that becoming a mum would cure me of my antipathy was dispelled.

I remember asking myself, ‘Is he really mine?’ He could, quite literally, have been anyone’s baby. Had a kind stranger offered to adopt him at that moment, I would not have objected.

Still, I wished no harm on Stuart and invested every ounce of my energy in caring for him. Even so, I know my life would have been much happier and more fulfilled without children.

Two years and four months after Stuart was born, I had my daughter Jo. It may seem perverse that I had a second child in view of my aversion to them, but I believe it is utterly selfish to have an only one.

I felt precisely the same indifference towards her as I had to Stuart, but I knew I would care for Jo to the best of my ability, and love her as I’d grown to love him.

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Yet I dreaded her dependence; resented the time she would consume, and that like parasites, both my children would continue to take from me and give nothing meaningful back in return.

Whenever I’ve told friends I wished I’d never had them, they’ve gasped with shock. ‘You can’t mean that?’ But, of course, I do.

And further into the article she explains her life with her kids

Tony and I had our rigidly defined roles. I did not look after the children when he was around. So as they played football, sat glued to the Grand Prix or watched the golf, I would creep back to our chalet and immerse myself in a good book. Other mums were running around like headless chickens after their children, but in our household Tony took that role.

We shared many happy times together; I did everything a good mother is supposed to. We had bucket-and-spade holidays on the Isle of Wight; there were endless sports events in which the children shone. I’m sure they would agree that they always felt secure and loved.

It was not that I seethed each day with resentment towards my children; more that I felt oppressed by my constant responsibility for them. Young children prevent you from being spontaneous; every outing becomes an expedition. If you take your job as a parent seriously, you always put their needs before your own.

Having children consigns you to an endless existence of shelling out financially and emotionally, with little or no return. It puts a terrible strain on your marriage and is perennially exhausting. And your job is never done.

I know my life with Tony would have been so much happier without children, less complicated and more carefree.”

I don’t believe either that Stuart or Jo sensed any coolness on my part, although Jo once said, ‘You never tell me you love me, Mum.’ And I didn’t, it’s true. But I reassured Jo that I did love her. She and Stuart just accepted that I wasn’t demonstrative.”

It’s crystal clear she didn’t want children and I almost applaud her for the honesty in which she conveys this. She may not have loved her children in the traditional sense (certainly not in the Hallmark sense) but she acted like she thought a mother was meant to behave.

Clearly her children are old enough to have read it and it’s obvious that she has spoken to them about it.  Why she wrote about it is another story altogether. But does she deserve to be attacked by “better mothers”?

The Mail Online closed comments on the post but not before thousands of people attacked her, not just as a mother but as a person.  The comments were horrific and nasty.  Hundreds of other media outlets picked up the story and the comments were just as vehement.

No kidding huh?

As always it makes me wonder about all the people that write hateful and poisonous comments online. Not just about this story but many others. Somehow it’s okay to write anything in a comment, it’s fair play to be mean and nasty in a response to something but it’s not okay for a writer to do that in a post.

I moderated comments on Mamamia for many years – I think I’ve seen the gamut of responses to other people’s parenting. I’ve been unlucky enough to stumble on some hideous forums that think it’s fair play to pick apart Australian bloggers, I’ve read the comments on far too many stories on other online forums and I’ve seen the vilest of Twitter abuse.

So while I can’t claim to understand what drove Isabella Dutton to write this piece (maybe she just wanted to air her view – maybe she has indeed helped thousands of other mothers who bring up their children perfectly well but hate parenting) I have more difficulty understanding parents that continue to bully and abuse other parents in comments and online forums while proclaiming how much better they are as people.

I’m careful about what I put out there about my son, I’d hate to hurt him in any way.  I am well aware that it’s as easy for him to read the comments as it is the story. And I never want him to think that bullying is okay.

Don’t put this in your eye

This is not an image of my own eye. Although it's rather how I imagined my eye would look. Hint: it didn't work

This is not an image of my own eye. Although it’s rather how I imagined my eye would look. Hint: it didn’t work

A 73-year old woman by the name of Margaret Kimpton was taken to hospital earlier this week after mistaking superglue for eye drops. Just take a minute to digest that. Try NOT to blink while you think about squeezing glue into the corner of your eyes.

Now try not to think less of me when I tell you about my very own Kimpton moment.

I was about 14 years old and hanging out with my BFF at her house getting ready for a big night which probably involved staying at home and talking about going out. But still, it was very important that we put on loads of make up and spend many hours doing our hair and nails. Because in my day that’s what 14-year old girls did.

But “my day” was long ago and there was no such thing as fancy, shmancy, glittery eyeshadows – there was however an impressive range of nail polishes.  I really, really liked the colour of the nail polish on my friend’s shelf, I remember it with the lucidity I was about to lose. It was clear with silver glitter suspended through it. I also remember thinking it would make a REALLY good eye shadow.

If only I had left it to my imagination but no, I did what any girl (with absolutely no sense) would do in the situation. I improvised and painted my eyelid with the nail polish. (I was smart enough to stop at one eyelid but this may just be because when I finished painting that eyelid I couldn’t see a damn thing)

Let’s just say that while lipstick can sometimes be substituted for blush and if you are in a really tight spot you can use blush on your lips, you should NEVER use nail polish on your eyes.

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But just like Margaret Kimpton I am not alone

The Sydney Morning Herald reports

“More than 900 people from NSW put superglue in their eye instead of eye drops over eight years, a review of calls to the NSW Poisons Information Centre between 2004 and 2011 has found.

Superglue was not the only culprit causing emergency room visits. Nearly 1300 people accidentally mistook medicines such as antiseptics, anti-fungals and nasal decongestants as eye drops.

More than 75 per cent of those who made the mistake were adults.”

Oops – just realised those stats were all about mistakes and I walked into my er, mishap knowingly. I blame my youth and the fact that my eyelids aren’t a little tougher.

What is the stupidest make up or cosmetic mistake you have ever made?

Taylor Swift for er, older women

Little Pencil and I have been rocking out to a little Taylor Swift most significantly her new(ish) song 22, as you do when you are trying to recapture your youth (me not him).

I’m singing along and loving the song but I keep tripping over the words because it seems a little er, young for me. You know words like this can trip an older woman up

It feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters
And make fun of our exes, uh uh uh uh
It feels like a perfect night for breakfast at midnight
To fall in love with strangers uh uh uh uh
Yeaaaah
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It’s miserable and magical oh yeah
Tonight’s the night when we forget about the deadlines, it’s time uh uh

So imagine how happy I was to find this. FAR closer to my truth

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSnDJ7exSO0&w=560&h=315]

Now I just have to add another 10 years (or so)

Is this the best news this woman has EVER received?

I think this video is just divine. Priceless and funny and obviously very happy. I just want to ask you one thing – do you think this woman is going to be the most interfering mother-in-law ever?

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SlNGJ1Sr9bM&w=560&h=315]
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Now how’s that for over-the-top happiness? With only a slight hint of “WHY DID YOU DRINK THAT WINE?”

Why they don’t give out soapboxes at the Easter Show

Image

My son is up there somewhere. WITHOUT me I might add

The day did not start out well when I sprinkled Chinese five spice powder on my breakfast instead of cinnamon.  As a general rule I do not like more than one spice for breakfast. Enough said.

The plan was to go to the Easter Show by car because I am allergic to public transport. Allergic meaning I have huge control issues and need to be able to access my car at any point in time and escape if I must.  The five spice powder should have acted as some kind of warning but no, I drove to Homebush to find every single access to the parking at the showground closed.

Eventually after parking somewhere very far away and getting a shuttle bus we got to the show. My son was so excited to be spending the day with me that he told me so eleven thousand times. The low point being when he said “and you don’t even have your lap top in your bag”. Had I spent so little time just with him (and no work) in the past few years that to just hang with me was such a praiseworthy experience? I am afraid the answer might be yes.

That said going out with no work stresses felt foreign but extraordinarily liberating. I was almost willing to look past the five spice powder and lack of parking… I was going to have fun damn it!

Until I saw an “exhibit” which appalled me so much I almost stood on a soap box and called for the Easter Show to be closed down immediately. Remember I hate being in the public eye – but this was horrific.  Seriously.

It was a deep, narrow tank of fish. At first I felt sad for the fish because there was literally no room for them to turn round and I am one of those people who believe fish should have room to move… But worse than that was the whole concept around this trapped fish tank – you could pay money to have a chance to fish from the tank. Obviously you’d be guaranteed a catch.
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Now I’ll be honest and say that I didn’t stay around to find out the details – for all I know you could just traumatise the fish and throw it back, or maybe you got to kill it properly and eat it. Maybe you got to keep it as a pet – any way you look at it I can’t find anything about it that seems fun, entertaining or ethical about trapping a fish and then catching it by luring it with a hook. It’s like putting an animal in a cage and shooting it for sport. In fact that’s exactly what it is.

I tried so hard not to obsess over the fish. But then I got to the animal enclosures and I saw a pig feeding her piglets and I wanted to get back on my soapbox and call an end to intensive factory farming. (By the way you can help do that here – seriously do it!)

Image

Pigs need a little bit of space to smile like this

I am no good around animals. No good at all.

This turned out to be a wonderful thing for my son because I forced him to leave all that behind and spend the rest of the time at the show checking out amazing sugary confection, riding scary rides and traipsing around the showbag pavilion laden with bags. No wonder he thought spending the day with me was so much fun!

So tell me – when you visit a place like the Easter Show is it for the rides or the animals? Are you into the craft or the woodchopping? What is your Easter Show calling card?

The study into motherhood that revealed nothing we didn’t know before

Questions and Answers signpostIn what can hardly be described as news, a study by online retailer  Littlewoods reveals that mothers are asked around 288 questions by their children in a typical day at home.

That’s shocking right? I mean my son must  clearly be above average.  He asks questions before he even opens his eyes in the morning.  But this survey focused on 1,000 mothers with children aged between two and ten and my child is twelve.

The Daily Mail reports

“It is during meal times when most questions are asked, with young children rattling off 11. This is closely followed by a routine trip to the shops, prompting ten.

Some 82 per cent of infants apparently go to their mother first rather than their father if they have a query. A quarter of children, 24 per cent, said they do this because their father will just say ‘ask your mum’.

In all, a mother’s knowledge is in such demand the study by online retailer Littlewoods.com found they are asked around 105,120 questions a year by their children.

The research found the number of questions asked by children differs with age and gender, with four-year-old girls being the most inquisitive. At the other end of the spectrum, nine-year-old boys are more content with their knowledge, asking a mere 144 questions per day.

Although the number of questions children ask falls with age, they increase in difficulty – so much so that 82 per cent of mothers admit they can’t answer them.”

Okay I am well within the 82% with my child asking me, amongst others, some of these doozies just recently

  • How does digital radio work?
  • How high up is space?
  • How do the weather people predict the weather and why does daddy say they can’t do their job?
  • If drugs are illegal because they make you act crazy and you can get addicted to them why isn’t alcohol illegal?
  • What is 29 cubed?
  • Why can’t I put this (glass with batteries in the base) in the bath, it isn’t electricity so how do the batteries actually work?

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I almost  look back at the days of endless questions from a toddler with wistful romanticism.  I remember the persistent questioning, the relentless search for knowledge that felt like he just wanted a small piece of my sanity but I remember that I could answer nearly all the questions. (It helped that so many of the questions were the same just repeated a billion times).

But there’s one thing about motherhood that you can be certain of – as soon as you think some stage has passed forever  you get something like THIS every single night

“Can I stay up later?”

“Can I read a few more pages?”

“Why do I get thirstier in the night than I do in the day?”

“What are we doing tomorrow morning?”

“What time do I have to get up?”

“What if I don’t get up in time?”

“What is the weather going to be like tomorrow?”

“Can I wear sport uniform to school tomorrow even though it’s a uniform day?”

“Why is the sport jumper so much softer than the uniform jumper?”

“Did we buy this jumper or did Zach give it to us when he grew out of it?”

“Do you remember that TV show we watched when I was 3 and there was this guy in it that wore cool green pants?”

You have to love an inquisitive mind.

Do your kids ask a billion questions?

Wow! “I thought it was some kind of weird potato”

I watched this video at the end of my chair

a) because I always sit right at the end of the chair otherwise my back gets sore;  and

b) because I wanted to fast forward to see what was going to happen (I am not very patient);  and

c) it’s quite amazing
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I knew it was going to turn out okay because otherwise the video wouldn’t be  a viral sensation (yes the cynicism got me) but I did dither and think maybe it’s going viral because it DIDN’T work. Watch

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I9ficvPdpZg&w=560&h=315]

(PS you can’t watch it the second time in the same way)

Just a thank you….

thank-you-wallpaperFor a time at work it became all about page impressions and unique browsers. I hovered over Google analytics every day to see how many visitors there were to the site, how many were new and how many had visited before. I pored over Facebook to see how many new likers there were and how they were interacting with the site. I scrolled through Twitter feeds looking for mentions and retweets. I went to Pinterest like a mad woman ignoring the images and looking only at the repins and the likes.

It wasn’t how I started at Mamamia, it wasn’t even who I was. I’m not a numbers person, a stats kind of girl – I used to balk at the sight of a graph and I’m still innately scared of numbers.

Soon after I announced that I was resigning from Mamamia/iVillage the messages started to flow in, both here on my blog (you people made me cry with these comments) and into my email inbox, my Twitter DMs and my Facebook messages. People that had contributed to Mamamia and iVillage started sending me messages without contributions attached. The most beautiful, heartfelt tear-producing messages you can imagine. Messages that I read again and again and will keep forever.

It wasn’t just the readers but the amazingly beautiful and talented Mamamia/iVillage interns* who sent me emails last week that turned my world around very briefly. Because they worked with me and they got what I was about.

My friends are supportive, amazing, reaffirming.  Kerri you are getting a special mention because AWESOME.

ED as a result of some disease like prostate cialis france https://unica-web.com/index-german.html problems etc. If they fell off their perches, there was too much gas around and it was time to test out the vacuum and purchase generic levitra https://unica-web.com/films2006.htm see what every one has to provide. Since cialis without prescription unica-web.com Finasteride is focused to crown balding and does not influence the hairline, somebody with a subsiding hairline would not say that Propecia is a decent hair rebuilding result. Besides common viagra sans prescription browse around this sense, there are also Net safety tools that you can employ to keep your friends and family acknowledge the help they have to battle their mental issues. My family (especially my eldest sister) who have always urged me to do my own thing. Even when I was annoying and irritating.

All the messages and the feedback I have been getting just confirm for me that, in the end, it’s not about numbers and figures, stats and unique browsers. For me it’s about being connected. I want to be part of a community where I can be good and kind and be around people that are the best people that they can be (in a very non soppy and totally cool way) and essentially be true to myself.

I don’t want this blog post to be about me patting my own back or singing my own praises, Lord (and anyone who knows me in real life) knows I do not like spotlights in any shape or form but I have been overwhelmed and humbled and I have been feeling better about myself after reading those messages than I have in a long time.

So thank you everyone. Thank you for helping bring me back to my own blog

* Follow Mary and Elissa on Twitter  – tell them I sent you!