The New Look PottyMouthMama

I've had a makeover over on my Facebook page. You should totes come over and check it out - as well as my new ample derriere. And bosom. And nose. And new and improved skinny arm. We can chat. And talk. And stuff.

Of if you're more into short and sharp, come over to Twitter.

PottyMouthMama. Get it while it's hot.

Let's Discuss Plagiarism: Or How My Content Wound Up On Your Website

these images are called - wow - how did my content fall onto your website?!


So I blogged about the Logies.


I did. I always blog about awards nights. Because I love it. 


And today, for some reason I was googling the Logies - because clearly I didn't get enough - and lo and behold, I found extracts of my content sitting on a large news publication website. Behind a paywall.


Let's just get this straight. My content. Used as more than just inspiration, and right there - with 'staff reporter' attached to it. 


Apparently I am now a staff reporter - or a contributor at least, because they did at least change things around a little. I said tissues, they said Kleenex. 


I felt more than a bit miffed. I felt upset. Mad. Ferocious. Wild as a wild cat. Grumpier than the Gruffalo. And just plain pissed off. 


A friend told me I should take it as a compliment. I did. For two seconds. And then I just thought what kind of a lazy creep - who gets paid (I don't), steals stuff. They must be terribly uncreative. 


Who does that? 


I think you'd be surprised - it seems to be happening more and more. I've read about bloggers whole posts being cut and pasted and claimed as someone else's quite often. 


My story about MY miscarriage was clearly the inspiration for a large website - and replicated in a weekly print publication. Though someone at least put a byline on that. Not my byline, but heck, it's an improve.. no it's not. 


But the internet is becoming increasingly a small world. You took my words and you didn't think I'd notice? Well I did. And I'm watching. 

Kidspot Ford Territory Top 50: Feel the difference

I've been wracking my brain for a couple of weeks, punishing myself, what the Hector am I going to write about for this post? My golden ticket for a chance to win a trip to NYC to attend BlogHer and a Ford Territory for a year. 


Here it is, I offer it up like a grown-up and female version of Oliver Twist, except my bowl's full of words - and I want you to have more. So not like Twist at all - but it was a good literary reference, yes?


Gather around. This is what I've come up with with a little help from my friends. 


My journey into blogging began back in '89. When I went to Talent Camp at Lake Keepit for creative writing. And then I went again the next year and Jim Pattinson had a crush on me, and I physically felt repulsed. I was 10, he was probably 11, and he got a little too close for my liking. I have not forgotten you Jim Pattinson - or you're unwanted feelings for me. 


Blogging was not yet invented - not to my knowledge anyway. But I tapped away on my Mum's electric typewriter in my spare time, short stories, poems, moving on to my grandfather's memoirs when I was 12.


But let us fast forward through my awkward years (and let's forget that I am actually still in the thick of my totes awkes years), we'll travel through time together and pop out of the time continuum right here. 


To 2007.


My true blogging journey began when I started reading Dooce daily. I love Heather Armstrong. Her truth. Her honesty. Her wittiness. It made me want to get back into writing again. This was a time when I was just about to pop out baby number two. I felt like I was in parenting exile. Two years earlier I'd quit my job, moved to the other side of the city away from my friends - and into the home of my in-laws. AWESOME! This was a time when my MIL walked in to our dark kitchen to find me crying in the pantry. When my FIL told me I needed to talk to Matt after we'd had a massive barney. When parenting and self-esteem was at an all time low. And so was privacy. 


I began banging out posts like it wasn't anyone's business. 


And that's the beauty of blogging. It becomes everyone's business. And from here, like the fountain of youth - or in my case, a community of awesome, like-minded women (and the occasional male reader, hi Dad!) sprung PottyMouthMama. 


A blogger was born. (And so was Tiny - but that's another story.)


If we take PottyMouthMama under the magnifying glass (and preferably not in full sunlight people, I've got fair skin) it comes down to this: 


"If you prick us, do we not bleed"*


It's true. We all do. The truth is, I am just like any other mother blogger. You, me, we.


And that's the beauty of us. 


I'm happy not to hide behind any facade. I don't need to amp up my life to seem like it's more glamorous, more exciting, more awesome than yours. Because it isn't. Trust me.


PottyMouthMama's point of difference is that life is ker-azy. Life is messy. Life can be sad, glad, mad, and rad - and all in one day. 


I can talk about that with great verve. It's my very own story to tell. You love reading about Tiny's mischief. My bin diving escapades. About my struggle with work-home-life balance. I love curating stuff and things I love, or sharing stories about my banal life. Because it's my blog and I can blog if I want to. 


So if you feel so compelled, please vote for me! I'd love to visit the Big Apple, so I can stop hanging out with these little apples and looking like William Tell and Snow White's love child. 

* Totally stolen from Shakespeare. Someone that could have written a really prolific ye olde playe stylie blogge. 

This Is Where I Ask You To Vote For Me

I'm not going to beat around the bush. And I'm not going to bang on about it. Let's just talk about this for one post. Ok? 


Please vote for me in the Kidspot Top 50 Bloggers. 


I feel incredibly chuffed that this is my third year of being nominated - amidst forty-n reputable and inspiring lady writers. Could it be third time lucky? Who the heck knows - but you hold the power in your fingertips to make PottyMouthMama's dream come true. 


And for your efforts, you could be in with a chance of winning $5,000. 


Apologies for the super crummy photo above. It's the best I can muster under these working conditions. Daylight savings ending and I'm all outta whack. I shake my fist at my woeful sleeping habits right now! 


Back to business, please vote for PottyMouthMama. Your country needs you. And me too. I need you too. Because if you weren't reading this - PottyMouthMama would just be another blog lamenting on the interwebz. 

Oh Hai.

Last night I went out on the town to kick up my heels with a bunch of bloggers. I met Wee Birdy there and together we giggled and guffawed the night away.


Big ups to Wee Birdy for giving me this banging picture of me being a ham hock. I mean, who doesn't star their Darling mani when posing mercilessly? The truth is, the reason I was dressed like a Tequila Sunrise (see recipe here) was for the Kidspot Top 50 Bloggers. Aha. 


Woogs held me in her bosom. I got to meet Eden. Was astounded by Hair Romance's beautiful hair. And I reunited with Chantelle. There were many more and it was like a whirlwind tour. I felt a bit like a fraud. 


Anyway, you readers, you are all quiet as mice. What's happening on your homefronts? Do tell. I am waiting to hear. And when someone wants to hack into my mainframe and let me know how I can reply directly to comments, well I am all freaking ears. I can not work it out myself and I want to punch my blog in the head. 


Right now I am listening to Gossling because I just love her. I've eaten a burger for dinner and had two to three wines. Who's counting? (Because it's not like I have to drive to bed.) I got told I was very quiet at work today. I love listening to the Hack on Triple J driving home. Do you? What are you doing? Come on, spill. Fill me in on what's on the haps in your neighbourhood. 


Oh and as a Friday bonus, how great is this Bluejuice cover of Video Games. I went off Lana del Rey quicker than Lite White goes off in a luke warm fridge. But this. This I can get with.


And finally, come join me on Facey. We can like totes chat. And stuff. 


PS - this is a link heavy post. I apologise. But perhaps you'll thank me later for sending you around the world in just one quick read of PottyMouthMama?

I'm Closing Down

I'm shutting up shop.
.
.
.
.
.
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For the weekend.
I'm taking a wee break. Back on Monday.
Let me know what you're up to this weekend. I'd love to hear.

image via here.

Happy 4th Birthday Dear Blog

Dear PottyMouthMama Readers,


It's four years since I first conceived PottyMouthMama. Actually, it's a little longer, because I dreamt her up, then stored her in my dream factory* and let her simmer, and then banged out my very first post.

It's four years since PottyMouthMama came screeching into the world, to bang on about anything and everything - and whatever else is in between.

I love my little space that I've carved out almost every single day. In four years I have met so many ace people, stretched my writing fingers, dreamt up posts and made a little space just for me. To share with you.


It's true. Tonight you should totes have champagne and cake to celebrate. I command you.

Thanks for reading, for commenting and for lurking.

I love each and every one of you, more than every single grain of sand on every single beach in the world, the galaxy and beyond. I love you to the moon and back, and then back again, and then back again. And then back again - but in reverse. I love you that much.

Big love,
Lexi

* dream factory often works overtime, or undertime, but either way, it's always a-chugging along

A Bog Post

Let's cast our minds back to how I actually came up with the name for my blog: PottyMouthMama. I was in the thick of toilet training. All I could think of was potties. Bribes. Star charts. And cleaning the potty. It was all consuming for me as a young mama.

PottyMouthMama really has nothing to do with the fact that I *accidentally* swear, and therefore Tiny could be found in the back of our car cussing with the best of them. She's a small wharfie in the making. And even when I asked her to stop saying: "Oh F-bomb", she continued. Ouch.

Anyway, back to the reason there is a really special toilet seat posted on my blog. And let me tell you, this place I like to keep kind of immaculate, and you're wondering why there's a toilet on my blog? Why PottyMouthMama, why? And why the crass title? Well for good reason.

This toilet seat may just be the key to getting a reluctant toilet trainer on the toot. It's not your usual white loo seat. It has fishes! It has star fishes! It has sand! Shells! Blue faux water!

Or it could really freak them out. Which could be good if you have a child that likes to sit on the toilet for long periods of time. Let them know a shark may bite their little bot-bot if they straggle.

Actually, don't do that. It won't do anything for their toileting.

More Than A Little Psychic

Probably around a year ago, I opened the forum to questions. This was when anyone could comment with a question, and I'd answer it. Big, small - all! I answered all of them. But this time. Things are different.

Well this time, I'm feeling psychic. I'm feeling a bit Athena StarWoman.

I've been over on Facebook doing tailored readings to anyone who's been interested. And basically that's everyone, because let's face it, I'm pretty bloody psychic and in tune with the stars, the moon, glitter, and the gridlines.

So if you'd like a special PottyMouthMama reading, please let me know your star sign, your favourite colour and the name of your first pet, and I'll customise a special PMM psychic reading for you.

Ready? Set. Go!

While I'm waiting for my psychic powers to tune into your frequency, we've been getting ready for birthday season.

Matt's and the Doctor's this week. My Dad's the following week. Then my sisters. And then mine. Nothing beats birthday season.