Sick. In Bed.

I'm at home feeling absolutely rotten. Johnny Rotten.

In amidst sleeping under a pile of 12 blankets and racing to the bathroom, I checked Facebook and found this. Two of my favourite songs mashed up. YAY TEAM!

It's like a gift to make my day better.

Yes?!

Carly Rae Jepson VS Cookie Monster

Who doesn't love this mash up of Sesame Street's Cookie Monster singing Call Me Maybe? Raise your right hand if you dare. I'll raise you a cookie or two.

Katy Perry: Part Of Me 3D - Reader Giveaway

This is a sponsored post.

Last year, watching the Doctor at his end of year school concert was pretty darn emotional. As his mama, I have been through everything with him – and I love who he is becoming. He’s kind of shy (sometimes) – and totally clever, funny, and very cheeky. He is so earnest – and that pulls at my heart strings.



As the finale, the whole school sang Katy Perry’s ‘Firework’. I know I sound like a complete cheeseburger, but I remember getting a lump in my throat – and something must have flown into both of my eyes – simultaneously.


We’d successfully navigated our way through the first year of school. It was hard – there was the distance I felt from being a working mother, coupled with the spate of bullying, not to mention the epic journey that is the first year of school.


It wasn’t how I’d dreamt it, but the Doctor had persevered and gotten through that year.


It’s apt that Katy Perry’s ‘Part of Me’ comes out these school holidays. It’s a glimpse into her life – how she worked hard to be where she is today. Following her dreams, and never letting her individuality waver.

I’ve seen her interviewed and have to say she comes across as such a positive and upbeat person – I think it would be difficult not to like her.

If you’d like a chance to win 1 of 5 double passes to take your kids to see Katy Perry: Part of Me in 3D these school holidays, all you have to do is answer this simple question in under 25 words:

Come on, spill. What’s your favourite Katy Perry song?




For full terms and conditions please click here.

Listening to? JustB Top 10

It's been a long time between posts. Long time for me. 

To keep you company while I whittle a new post out of a keyboard and a computer, here's my Top 10 With a (Licorice) Bullet over on JustB. 

It'll get you dancing, to be sure to be sure.

Disclaimer: I am dismayed I did not include any TLC in the mix. Here's some TLC to make amends to TLC. I love TLC. I mean, how could you not love TLC?! It baffles me daily. 

Call Me, Maybe?

Have you noticed I have a wee obsession with this song? But it's the covers that are killing it. Seriously. I love them. And Barack Obama? Slayed it.

But what's this? More? The Harvard Baseball team are up to their elbows in car-choreography you say? Well let's check this out. Jock straps dancing? I am there!


Have I just ear-wormed you? Sorry about that.

Er. HELLO!

Ben Howard is the sweetest discovery I made via a very good old friend.

How can you not love his version of Carly Rae Jepson's 'Call Me Maybe'.

The man is gold.

New Angus Stone: Sigh and Swoon

It is well documented how much I love Angus Stone.

A man who can write, sing, play music and looks like that. Well he's high up on my celebrity crushes. And he can crazy dance too. I love a man who can crazy dance.

Coldplay Plays Beastie Boys. Awesome

Seen this? The impossibly cool Chris Martin et al play Beastie Boys in a tribute to Adam Yauch.

And I'm in awe.

The Best Thing You'll See Today: Clare Bowditch

Heavenly. This is divine.

Beastie Boys: RIP MCA

The Beastie Boys shaped so many people's youths, I'm sure of it.

I felt like I could defeat the world when I listened to it as a teenager. Now it just makes me want to crazy dance.

Are You Cereal?

Want to know what I think of supermarket music? Want to know why there should be royalty in the shops (just not that Prince up there)?

Then click over to JustB today for my scoop on how I can make your shopping adventures a heck of a lot happier.

image via Zimbio

I Don't Know About You...

But I feel KO'ed this afternoon. We had dancing first thing this morning, (well Tiny did, not me) after dropping Matt to work, then we seemed to be in the car for the four hours following. Not much chop.

The smalls are kicking back watching a movie, while I've been pottering about in the garden, and feeling a bit weak and tired - I'm yearning for a cat nap.


Can anyone identify that pesky blue flower in the top picture? It seems to be a weed that's impregnated my front garden with itself, and is now rife with this dirty blue flower thing. Anyone? 


Meanwhile, back on other matters, I've finally joined Instagram. You can find me under PottyMouthMama. Quelle surprise! 


Finally, here's a song to send you on your way. You dig?

Therapeutic Monday:: In The Garden

I spent some time in the garden yesterday. Actually a lot of time. With secateurs in hand. 

The reason for this spate of Gardening Australia? I had to find the water meter for the water meter reader man. Do you think I found it? Nope. Despite hacking into everything - and being completely disgusted with the weeds that think it's ok to procreate in my garden. I still have not found the meter. 


However I did find my inner gardener, my inner Peter Cundal. It was sprinkling and cold and yet - I was stalwart and continued hacking into those overgrown bushes (not that bush, manners, please). I must be channeling my mum. And my grandmother. Both keen gardeners. Now there are piles of clippings all over our garden. And nowhere to put them. Novice fail. 


It was good to do physical work - to feel the physical tiredness, and see tangible results. 


In other ground breaking news Tiny went back to preschool today - and I got to spend some time with her and her classmates, decorating picture plates. Boy it was funny, I was chuffed to spend time there, and today was a triumph. Tiny wore jeans. Crumbs. She gave me a cute attack. 


Tonight Tiny told me she wanted to climb onto my back and never hop off, no matter what, she'd just ride up there on my back - and never-ever- everlet me go, then she would yell: "this is paradise". Chris Martin has been brainwashing her. 


Sigur Ros. This is beautiful. A good reason for me to move to Iceland. Good music and crazy knits. 


Tomorrow, on ANZAC day, we're planning to head into the city. I enjoy seeing the diggers, waving, acknowledging them. I'd like to take the smalls to see that, with rosemary pinned on. 

Indeed. It Is Friday.

I have a sister. Anna. She is funny and colourful and super creative. She can just *BOOM!* make stuff - and when she and my other sister, Sarah, get together, they do stuff - and it's awesome. And then combine that with my Mum, and *DOUBLE BOOM* the three of them make stuff. And wow. It's pretty cool.

I missed out on that creative gene. I think it was passed down by my grandmother, Mars. She was a woman who could knit, crochet and embroider like her eyes were telecopes. Seriously. The best birthday presents were always made by Mars and Gramps and were highly coveted. I still have the doll house, and all the jumpers, and all the dolls that were made by them, made with so much LOVE!

Mars even made a Princess Diana doll. So cool. I will find it and document it because, well the woman was bloody amazing.

I didn't get passed down too many visual creative genes. I got wordy genes from my other grandmother Nonny. Well I think that anyway.

Anyway. This is a long-winded way to say, here's your Friday song, gifted to me by my sister Anna (who likes Lana del Rey - but I won't hold that against her). I'm paying it forward .

With no further adieu, I introduce Alex Winston. Anyone by the name of Alex is alright in my books. AHEM!

HAPPY FRIDAY!

Not Even Close

A pre-PS - you should listen to this song before reading this post.

Well. Hello there. I've had a wee break and thought I had better report in.

What kind of blogger leaves their blog unattended for two days? Me. Sorry about that.

This week has been busy and interesting, and I've felt long moments of anxiety - where an almost skull cap of tension comes over me, and I don't want anyone near me, I feel fractious. I feel claustrophobic. It's not a good feeling - and to be completely frank - because what else am I (?) I do not like it.

But I am ok. I am definitely ok. Fear not for me. I will (hopefully bounce back) as a more vibrant me. I'm painting my nails in Darling Showpony as testament to this hope.

So I turn to you dear reader. I need food for the soul. When everything's dried up in me, and I feel like the marrow is completely sucked dry, please tell me of your good tidings. I want to hear every sordid detail. SPILL!

image source: green diary
Post-PS - you should now listen to this song - 1. for the song; 2. because I feel like I miss Robert and 3: the palette. I wanted to be one of those girls. HAWT!

Post - PPS - I always wondered how Robert got those ka-TING noises. I presume it's ninjas battling in the background. It's a given, right?

Better Than The Original?

I'm going out on a limb here.

I think this is better than the moody broody original.

Big ups to my friend Yonesay for shining the light on this gem.

Gil Scott-Heron VS Rihanna + Drake

VS

This here is your Friday mash-up. Play them separately or play them together. Which I liek to do.

Which do you prefer?

Stuff On A Saturday

I'm having a quiet day. Cleaning out my wardrobe. Hanging with my smalls. Doing the washing. It's banal, and I kind of like that on a Saturday.

I found this clip yesterday. It's keyed in to how I feel right now. A bit blue. At the tail end of what's been a shitty week.

But there are brighter things on the horizon. Sparkly baubles in the guise of Bonnie Prince Billy on Monday. And Mellie Waugh's show before that.

And you? How are you this Saturday?

Well. Well. Well.

I'm not sure what to make of Madge breastfeeding a dolly in her new clip.

I'm sure those cyber-crank-yanker-trolls wouldn't have a problem with this image, and at the end of the clip, tossing the (faux) baby off to the side.

But one thing's for certain.

She sure has big cans.

Lucky Madge.

Censoring Music

More and more I'm finding that I am needing to censor music from my children's young ears.

It's not like I'm listening to NWA or any heavy-handed lyrics. I'm talking everyday music that I once took for granted. Lily Allen. Gotye. Black Eyed Peas. I could go on, but I can't think of anyone else right now.

Apparently everyone's dropping the f-bomb in their lyrical miracles, and it's become au fait.

You're talking to PottyMouthMama here. I tried to delete swearing from my vocab the moment I birthed my first babe.

I'm not just playing Justine Clarke CDs over and over again, but help a girl out - what's your tactic when artists are getting their swear on? I'm not some little prude sitting in the corner. Surely I am not alone.

I want my kids to remain kids for as long as possible. To preserve that innocence for as many years as possible.

I remember vividly playing records on my Uncle Silas' record player, discovering the Beatles, Tiny Tim and many others as I worked my way through my parent's collection.

I remember puzzling over lyrics and wondering what they meant - and imagining my own innocent meaning - but I don't remember them cussing on the mike. Ever.

Now piles of CDs are relegated to times when I am alone, in the car, or if the smalls have gone out. Clearly, my music collection is somewhat refined when in their company - but their innocence is worth more to me than listening to a song. Can you dig?