Cold. Yoga. Hirsutism.

Hi guys.
Hope your week is traveling well.

I was doing a spot of fairly inadvisable reading of the Slapdash Mama back catalogue today. Apart from the whole UGHHHHH people are reading the SHITE I am writing feeling I got, I was also struck by a common thread. So common, in fact, that it is in fact referred to as the COMMON COLD.  That's right. A considerable number of my erudite missives are complaints about either me or (God forbid) M or the kids having a bloomin' cold. Just SO INTERESTING for everyone I am sure.

Well GUESS WHAT!!?? I have a cold. Right now. This minute. The kids and M are just recovering from one too.

Despite my suffering I still went to work. I'm not sure if this wasn't seen in a negative light by my colleagues what with the wastepaper basket overflowing with snotty tissues and all, but a working mother never has any sick leave to waste. Don't get me started on that.

I also dragged my carcass up to the yoga class I go to at work at lunchtime. I was VERY unenthusiastic, but felt compelled to attend. Mostly because I had forgotten to make my payment to the organisers and had to scab $65 off my longsuffering yet cheery workmate MG. I understandably felt that after his generous loan I really couldn't skip it, more's the pity.

Anyway it was quite a stressful class, what with my stuffed up snout rendering my yogic breathing ineffectual, and my feeble attempts to conceal my utterly feral unshaved legs from the rest of the class. I am determined not to weaken and shave my hairy pins until the end of winter, when I can start a brand new regime of waxing, and therefore hopefully reduce the amount of time I spend attending to my body hair.  Anyway I spent a goodly amount of the class today lying flat on my back gazing at the ceiling. Still, it's the thought that counts.

Speaking of body hair, I am totally over mine. Or should I say, it is totally over me! Like ALL OVER ME! I have always been a fairly hirsute lady, but I swear as I get older I get hairier and hairier. I am developing a veritable beard. Not a day goes by when I don't suddenly catch sight of my chin hairs glinting in the sunlight and have to make a hasty dash for the tweezers.  Maybe I should just grow it and get a job as a bearded lady? I could have my own You Tube channel, that seems all the rage these days.

My legs are bloody hairy too, and my bikini line (if you can call it that!) goes almost to my knees.

I've ranted about this before but frankly it's worth repeating. I sort of felt the need to apologise for it at my last de-pelting at the beauticians.

"I swear I'm just getting HAIRIER and HAIRIER! I mean it's practically down to my KNEES now!" I remarked to her.

She shrugged disinterestedly and said, in an accent reminiscent of the Gay Mancunian Heroin Addict caracter "Keanu Reevess" from Saxondale, "Oh, it's just hormonal, all that hair is. Hor-MON-al."

Fuck you hormones, you've been the bain of my existence since I was an early blooming twelve year old, with a bra strap ripe for the snapping by over excited pre teen boys.

Anyway I will leave you with a snippet of a Saxondale episode, featuring aforementioned Gay Mancunian character, for the unenlightened of you who aren't familiar with it. Enjoy.

My Skin Care Regime.

Ciao fellow fashionistas.

Tonight's edition of the Slapdash Fashion Spectacular is an overview of my very own skin care regime.

This face doesn't just take care of itself you know. I have to put the hard yards in to maintain my apparently effortlessly flawless complexion.

As is my habit, I will present it to you in dot point form, accompanied by helpful pictorial aids.

• Cleansing - It is important to cleanse your skin. I cleanse my skin. Cleanse is a weird word, isn't it? Cleanse. Means clean. But, like, with extra letters.  Woah, does my voice sound weird to you? Hahahahahahaha...it totally does sound weird! Look at my hands they are so HUGE!  Anyway I use stuff to clean my face.

This is the stuff I use. It's from fancy boutique establishment Woolies. When I'm not wearing makeup I just use water. I know! Novel.

I use a washer to cleanse my face too. This one has added stains from wiping the baby's face.  I like to think of them as extra nutrients for my skin. Some people pay the big bucks for that gear you know.







• Moisturising - I mostly don't bother. Sometimes I shove Oil of Olay on. I use whatever half finished tubes and bottles are lying round for my hands and feet. But mostly I can't be arsed.

That's it people! Enlightening isn't it?

Anyway, yesterday's OOTD received an overwhelming response so I am continuing on with today's high fashion costume.

OPI Shorts Story. Chipped to buggery. Forgive me FF for I have sinned. It's been 14 days since my last NP application.

I'm mixing up the bathroom selfies for you. Top and skirt Veronika Maine. Scarf my mum's old one from back in the day. Can you believe I used to wear it as a sort of top arrangement? I wore it today because it has purple on it and my colleague R makes us all wear a particular colour on Tuesdays. Today it was purple. Fascinating, no?

Here I am importantly Taking Care of Business and Getting Shit Done. I was interested to note the development of significant back fat in this photo. Perhaps I need to source some control underwear for my upper body? Any tips for getting rid of it? The back fat? I mean, apart from like, losing weight and doing exercise and toning up and shit. 

My shoes. Also from an op shop.

 There you have it.

Do you have back fat? Do you wash your face? Own any full body control underwear?

I'm dying to know.

It's Fashion Week at Slapdash Mama!

Hi readers.

I'm a bit off my game at the moment due to my poor health and sick kids and blah blah blah moan moan sigh cough cough coughhhhhh hack snort gnnrrgghhhhhh.....

Anyway it is unfortunate timing my friends. Unfortunate timing indeed, because it is at this VERY MOMENT that the judges for the Kidspot Voices 2013 are hovering enthusiastically over nominated blogs, determining WHO WILL BE THE WINNER!? or even who will be in the Top 100??!? No pressure at all dudes. Nope. None.

Everyone just LOOK NORMAL OK!?

Anyway, and this has NOTHING AT ALL TO DO WITH BEING NOMINATED FOR VOICES 2013, but it just so happens that as well as being a talented Political Analyst, Travel Reporter, Satirist, Poet, Restaurant Critic and General Dispenser of Parenting Advice, I also fancy myself as a bit of a Fashion Blogger too.

Stop laughing please you guys, you are embarrassing me in front of the JUDGES!!!!

I totally AM a fashion blogger.

So this week has been designated FASHION WEEK here at Slapdash Mama HQ!  It coincides rather depressingly with my recent resolution to buy NO NEW CLOTHES for the rest of 2013.

I'm not joking.  This is really happening.

I need something to distract me from this decision, so I'm even going to be presenting you with an OOTD pictorial spread.  Don't know what OOTD means?  Neither did some of my new Twitter mates, when we were Twitting about stuff yesterday so I was only too happy to enlighten them with an explanation.

OOTD means "Outfit of the Day". Obvious now, no?  And it is the hashtag that fashionista types give their selfie snippy snaps on Instagram. And fashion blogs are full of them.

The punters go CRAZY FOR THIS SHIZZ.

So I am getting on board too. For the punters, you see.  I give them what they want.

Here's today's OOTD.  You guys are lucky in a way you cannot imagine that the first OOTD was done on one of my work days because it means I am wearing actual CLOTHES!

Here I am wearing a Review dress from 2010, a pink David Lawrence cardigan from a million years ago, and Red Phoenix Emporium necklace and earrings. I saw Red Phoenix jewellery on Faux Fuchsia's blog and because I too am a joiner, I immediately ran off and purchased some. 

Here's my legs and shoes and attractive work office type carpet.  Shoes are from an op shop. You've seen them before. Because I basically wear them every day.

Obligatory bathroom selfie. Large overflowing bin with paper towels really adds a sort of charm I think. Gritty. Like, I don't know, an episode of The Wire.

There you have it guys. Before I go I want to leave you with a few fashion words of wisdom that have helped me over the years.

-  Jeggings are for all!!!!
-  Everyone looks good in a tunic, leggings and ballet flats.
-  When in doubt, wear a dress.
-  Colour is the new black! Or is that grey is the new black? Hang on maybe it's navy blue.  Anyway, let's just say black is the new black and leave it at that!

Stay tuned for tomorrow's post where I regale you with my Slapdash Beauty Tips and post yet another OOTD.

Til then.

Your ever faithful

Slapdash Mama.

EDITED TO ADD: Just removed the post from the IBOT page because I did it wrong.

Call and response. Mother's ruin. Party time.

By way of answering yesterday's questions on notice I provide the following responses from the Minister for Minutiae and the Daily Grind. 

1. I chose this brooch to wear.

Nana's brooch. And my yucky old sun damaged chest.

2. To cut a long story short, I basically went for a pretty thorough depelting. Not too bad. Unfortunately I also got the eyelash tint and eyebrow wax, AND I was coerced into buying PRODUCT. Gah. The expense. I can't believe how much it all cost, I am deeply ashamed. I feel soiled and vacuous and wasteful. But also smooth. Very veerryy smooth. Baby's bottom smooth. Oh yeah. You know it.
Swings and roundabouts, people, swings and roundabouts.

3. My undie situation was getting a bit dire so I decided to treat myself. Considering that:
      a) I've had most of my knickers since P was born and
      b) they are all low rise resulting in maximum muffin top visibility, the purchase came not   a moment too soon.

Behold the new high rise pants in all their glory.

Out with the old, in with the new. Does this make you feel hot under the collar? You should see my control top pantyhose!  Phew! 

When P saw me wearing a pair this morning she said "Mummy why are you wearing pants on your tummy?". They are eminently comfortable.

Mum's still here. Had this convo with her after I spoke to M on the phone at one point.

Mum - Sounds like M has had a bad day should I go down and get some booze?
Me - Yes
Mum - Gin?
Me - Yes
Mum - And tonic?
Me - Yes
Mum - Then you'll have it there for, you know...
Me - What?
Mum - For breakfast.

If only she knew how close that is to reality. I kid, I kid.

On another note, I've noticed that everyone everywhere is frocking up for glam Xmas parties but not me. P and I had a mummy and gal date at the shops and there was sparkling gorgeousness everywhere ripe for the purchasing and I've certainly got nowhere to wear it.

Blurry pic of P devouring a patty cake while I watched on, drooling onto my bib. I am many things, but a photographer is not one of them. In case you hadn't already noticed.

I've fallen off the work radar and M's party was last Friday starting at 5pm and stir crazy wives weren't invited. What a fizzer!! Pfft. No plans for New Year either. What to do, what to do. Are any of my friends reading this? Are you having a party I don't know about? Can I come too? Don't be shy. Speak up now and we can organize something pronto. I don't even know where we will be on the night, geographically speaking. I'll have a think and get back to you all.

 Smell you later dudes.

Fox in flats Darecember was boots today.  As if!  Too hot I say.  Substituted this photo of Boots the monkey from Dora the Annoyer.

Hot stuff. Pants off. Logging the forest.

Gosh what a day it was yesterday. Hot as Hades. I've been alerted to the fact that some people don't like discussing (aka complaining about) the weather. It's my favourite pastime! What's one to do instead? I suppose I could read improving works, take up knitting, become a triathlete or at the very least resurrect my fleeting dalliance with jogging, but frankly none of those options give me the same warm inner glow as my current penchant for moaning about climatic developments. So I will just stick with what I know if it's all the same to you.

Nutmeg the cat escaping the heat. Her eyes are glowing in an appropriately hellish manner.

Nudie summer baby engaging in illicit tree handling.

The heat is making us all vague. Mum's staying with us for a couple of days. This morning we had this conversation.

Mum: If you're looking for your walking hat, it's in the spare room here.
Me: Really?
Mum: Yes.
Me: I don't know how it got in there.
Mum: No.
Me: Presumably I went in there while I was wearing it.
Mum: Yeah.
Me: And then took it off.
Mum: Probably.

Scintillating.

Yesterday the Fox in Flats Darecember dare was "on your head". I started off with this sort of arrangement.

But because I was headed off for an appointment with the gynaecologist, I felt it was a little inappropriate, kind of like I was trying too hard for a first date or something so I panicked and changed it for this old staple.

Sunnies atop head.  Imaginative it isn't.

Much less "Come hither you big love machine, let's dance some salsa together and drink sangria" and more "Ok buddy, we both know why I'm here. I'll just get my dacks off pronto, so we can get on with this unsavoury business and move on with our lives".

I'm going to get my body hair waxed today. I've obviously got a taste for getting strangers to manhandle my person this week. I've only ever had the ole bikini line waxed once before and afterwards I was left bleeding, trembling and weepy from the agony. Actually even just writing this makes me want to rethink it and just go with the old faithful eyebrow wax.  Although if I go through with it, the upside is that I'll probably be able to make a rug out of the resulting de-pelted fuzz.

Today the Darecember dare is to wear a brooch. I've got a variety of options...not sure what to go with.

A cornucopia of brooch-like options.  Not really. A measly collection if ever I saw one.

In the next episode - which brooch will I have chosen? Eyebrow wax or full body deforestation? Will I locate some clean underwear or be forced to go commando?
You'll have to wait with breathless anticipation for the next installment to find out.

Until then, devoted readers, I bid you good day.

Edited to add: Linking up with With Some Grace for FYBF

Gas. Some questions.

Discovered late last night that the gas had run out.  And that the backup gas cylinder was empty too.  Obviously someone has forgotten to order one at some point.  I place the blame squarely at my husband's feet, I'm far too organised and together to have forgotten that important task.  I'm not called Slapdash Mama for nothing..oh, wait...

Anyway, this has meant two bracing cold showers now for me.  And of course it coincided with hair washing day too. I can't bring myself to wash my hair in the freezing water so now I look like this;

I could deadset go a martini right now, and all. 

I'm also in desperate need for an eyebrow wax, it's all starting to look a bit like this;

Our former glorious leader.

Also last night we had a night with the kids that looked a bit like this;

Some folk will have seen this before, but I think it begs sharing again.
Proof that motherhood is not all glamour.

I feel exhausted and a bit grumpy.

Went to yoga and in a pleasant deviation from last week's shameful episode, I did not immediately come home and ingest a disgusting quantity of Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Baby steps, people.

In conclusion, I have some questions that I need answered;

1.  Gaspard and Lisa (and their families) are characters in a children's tv series.  They are giant dogs.  They go about their business like they think they are people.  All the other characters ARE actually people.  They interact with each other like they are all just, you know,  people!  But Gaspard and Lisa are GIANT DOGS, right!?  How come no-one says anything?  I find it confusing and it ruins my enjoyment of the otherwise excellent programming on ABC2.

2.  P stripped off all her clothes again today while jumping on the trampoline, even though we had people over.  Am I raising a sociopath?

3.  Can anyone recommend a cheap-ish laptop? I want one.

3.  Also, where are all the undies I bought for P last week? I can only find two pairs.

Thank you.  Carry on.