No More Fellatio, Thanks!

A quick and possibly unexpected post from me this evening. It's irrelevant and serves no purpose, as you'll learn by the end of it, but it must be done.

As all of you may be aware I am a Twat.
I am on Twitter, a lot.
I Tweet, a lot.
Therefore, I am a big Twat.

If your mind was just in the gutter, please keep it there for a moment.

I am not popular.
Although, for the last week, I have felt very much so, as I am being mentioned (tagged for all you non-Twats) in a lot of Tweets.
This should, and has made me feel incredibly loved, but unfortunately, it's not the kind of love I'd like.

I have been mentioned in a lot of posts with links attached. As a blogging Twat it's not uncommon to be sent links to posts or photo's from other blogging Twats. As all links are shortened in Tweets, it's difficult to decipher the content of the links. Unless, you are constantly being mentioned by 'The Bad Eggs'.

The Bad Eggs are folk with an egg as their DP. The egg is the Twitter default picture.

(Twitter, Tweet, Bird, Egg, get it? Got it? Good!)

The Bad Eggs in question do not 'follow me'. I do not 'follow them'. One can only assume they found me because unless you are a reader of my blog, and know its meaning, my UserName does sound like a dodgy 80's porno film.

Anyway, ignoring how they found me, and moving on to the fact they have and are mentioning me in numerous posts containing mystery links. In a moment of ignorance, well several as it was more than once, I clicked on the mystery link/s.

What greeted me, I cannot be sure whether to find it offensive or hilarious. The links contained photographs of women who, based on their appearance, have not had two children in under two years and were doing things I'd clearly never heard of, or tried myself, hence my penchant for being el pregnanto. There is no sense why someone should send me these links. Clearly, it isn't my thing!

In conclusion, despite the fact I am a self confessed Twat, and Twitter (what with all it's 'egg' and 'bird' references) is full of subtle innuendos, I would greatly appreciate it, should The Bad Eggs actually view my profile and click on the links I share and come across this, if you could cease sending me pornographic content via mystery links.

I'd rather have NO mentions than develop an STD in my phone, and I don't mean the phone call kind of STD's...

Getting My Angry On.

I am seeing red posting this.

If there is any spelling errors, swearing, or anything at all you may find unsettling,

I apologise in advance.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Today I read something that riled me.

So much so that the mere mention of it to Hubby,

made him say "I agree with you, blog about it, get it out".

I logged onto my computer earlier to be greeted with the headline on NineMsn that said:

"Derryn Hinch, found guilty".

Image pinched from here

I am an avid follower of all things "Derryn" because, let's face it, he's a bloody champion.

So, I headed over to check out his latest "shenanigans" only to be greeted with a story outlining he's received another conviction and may be off to jail...

for naming serial sex offenders, who'd been convicted & are on a sex offender's register, again.

Now, this did not sit well, and still does not sit well with me.

I am curious to know, what is becoming of our country,

when a 67 year old man, who has been given a year to live,

is possibly on his way to prison [again!] for naming convicted repeat rapists.

What is right about that?

What can be said of our justice system if people can molest children, women, men, what have you,

and the people who stand up and say "this person is not only a sex offender, but is a REPEAT offender, and they could be your neighbour, gardener, local fruiterer or butcher, beware"

get a conviction and go to jail?

What the fuck?

I know a sex offender.

He was charged, found guilty, and is on a sex offender's register.

He did no jail time, despite the fact his victim was a six year old girl.

This sex offender, has re-offended.

He's still walking the streets.

I know his name, address and phone number.

He lives near a primary school.

He makes Facebook pages, posing as cartoon characters,

so that young people will add him as a friend,

AND

He has admitted he'll re-offend.

You want to know who he is, right?

Make sure the school he lives and loiters near isn't the one your child attends, right?

You want to know that the little girl or boy he's ogling while playing in the sandpit,

isn't your own baby, right?

But to tell you.

To warn you.

To stop your child from being this person's next victim,

IS WRONG.

I could go to prison for telling you his name.

You could buy a police scanner,

and hear it from the mouths of the police themselves,

but for me, a civilian, a mother, to tell you who he is,

is illegal.

To tell you, would make ME the criminal.

Derryn Hinch, to me, is not a criminal.

He is a hero.

A hero who during his last year,

could very well go to jail for protecting people.

What good is a sex offender's register if we can't see it?

Sex offender's are not likely to rape the police,

they are likely to rape us, our children, our friends, and family,

so why are we not allowed to know who they are?

What a justice system we have.

What a fucking joke.

Lucky country?

HA!

I really HATE my Neighbours.

Well, it's that time again.
You know, the time I am supposed to be sleeping and something pisses me off and ruins my plans of sleep, thus resulting in me ranting.
Yet again, it's my not-so-neighbours.
I have blogged about these turds before.

They live on the other side of the road several houses down, so technically anything they do should not impact on my life as they aren't my neighbours.

Turns out, they do shit that DOES impact on my life, regardless of not being my neighbours.
It's their darn music again.
I know, I sound old.
But it's really awful.
I once went to a nightclub. It was my Year 10 formal and after the ringing in my head that I suffered for three days afterward, I never went back to one. Ever.
Their music, now remember they live a fair way down the street, is WORSE than a nightclub.
It is loud, can be heard perfectly from inside my house, over the music I have playing through my headphones, and is often full of content that makes me want to cover my sleeping kids' ears and scream, 'won't somebody PLEASE think of the children!?'

If they played their music, yelling over the top of it, and smashing their beer bottles by throwing them on their driveway during the day, I wouldn't be so bothered, but at 1am, something's gotta give.

I understand today is a public holiday, and if it were a one off, I wouldn't whine about it so much. But, it's every night. Seriously, every single night! And they start at about 10pm and go through until about 4 or 5am!

I always admire the state of their squalor when I drive past after they've had a big night and am often surprised no-one has died on their front lawn.
The home is a public housing home.
I am not judging people who live in public housing AT ALL, but a lot of people who are in the public housing community do get judged harshly because of people like my not-so-neighbours, which is completely unfair.

When Hubby and I were house hunting, due to severe overcrowding at Mum's we were met with a lot of rejections based on the fact we had kids and had no references as we'd never lived out of home. We were never given a chance. These people make more noise and do more damage to properties than my kids could manage if I actually let them do it, yet they get houses to live in (or in their case, mis-treat) easier than we did.

How?

At least my Hubby has a full time job!
One can only assume the fact that these people play music and try to sing, scream and swear over the top of it at all hours of the night cannot hold jobs, so I am curious as to what on earth possesses anyone, least of all public housing (who couldn't even help my little family and we needed it) to give these people somewhere to dwell!?

Call the police, I hear you say!?
I've thought about it.
What stops me?
They intimidate me. I'll admit, the thought of crossing them alarms me. They are the kind of people who have, either, been, or belong, in a prison.

We live on a street with mainly older people, who are often in bed early, not to be seen until early morning, when the not-so-neighbours are winding down. With two young kids, it's not uncommon for our lights to go on once or twice a night. I worry if I rang the police they'd see the only other house with signs of life on our street during the night is our's and our home and vehicles would be targetted by their empty beer bottles. They've even ridden past on their scooters (yes, it's a common meeting ground for the teens of our town) and eyed off my Hubby's pride and joy that sits completely unprotected (aside from the security system) in our driveway.

The police have been there once since we've lived here. I didn't call them, but I peeped, and the minute the police left their property, the music was back up again anyway, louder (if possible) than before, obviously as their way of annoying the troubled neighbour further.

I like having a home (obviously) and as much as I am thankful our landlord gave us a chance to have a home, part of me is hoping someone else gives us a chance when our lease runs out because I am not keen on renewing it if they still live around here.

They are a nightmare!

/rant.

Rant.

I mentioned in a previous post that I am very opinionated and it can often get me in trouble.
Here's one of those opinions that may get your blood boiling (or you may totally agree, who knows?).

Daycare.

If you work or study and have absolutely no choice but to pop your child in Daycare, then that is cool bananas. It's your right to utilize the service for it's intended purpose.

BUT (and here's the crazy rant bitch coming out) when you are a stay at home mother, with no other job than being a mother, why pop your kids in Daycare?

I know of a mother who dumps her kid in Daycare once a week because she 'likes a day off' and do you know what she does once a week while her kid is in Daycare? Gets drunk.

Okay.

I'm up on my high horse now because I bloody can be.
I am a stay at home Mum of Two. Not just one! TWO. Double the nappy changes, double the meal making, double the dressing, double the playtime AND I do it alone most days (kudos to you single Mama's!)

Sometimes, I would give my right arm for one day off a week.

Sure, I could drop my kids in Daycare, but I don't have any right to. My kids in Daycare would take up two spots that could be used for families who need the Daycare because they work or study. Dumping a child in Daycare so you can drink is wrong with a capital W! It's abuse of a system we are privileged to have these days.

Even if I did get one day off a week I assure you I wouldn't be drinking. I would be doing housework (to distract myself) or sitting in my kids' rooms cuddling their clothes, or toys and crying because I miss them, their noise, their chatter.

The night Miss E was born I stayed up all night (after giving birth) fretting about how Master S was doing without me, and he was at home with his father, not in the care of strangers!

How a parent can say they are a stay at home parent, yet palm off their kid to anyone and everyone for NO bloody reason is beyond me!

If your child/ren is/are such a bloody burden on your life then return to work, or even better, don't have kids. People would stab someone in the eye for a chance to have a baby, and you are dumping yours off on whoever because you need a day off. Being a parent is a privilege, not a right.

Full time parenting is what you signed up for the day you had sex (excuse the crass analogy). It is tough, but every moment spent with your kids is worth how tough it can be. Daycare dumping is as good as unfit parenting when used in this way!

/rant.

To be [anonymous], or not to be [anonymous]...

There is an old saying "sharing is caring".

But, how much sharing online is too much?

When I first started this blog,

back when I had one follower for three whole weeks,

I was one post short of giving away my address.

I let it all hang out.

Then, as my followers increased,

I became cautious.

I follow a few blogs where I know the blogger's identity.

And, I also follow blogs, such as Glowless where her identity is shielded by a pseudonym.

Just because I do not know her name, it does not mean I do not feel as though I know her.

It's like the time a friend of mine thought my name was Tracey.

Not my real name of course, but one in which she still calls me by, in an affectionate way.

A nickname, if you will.

Could I start this blog again,

I may have taken a leaf out of her book.

Not because I don't love sharing, obviously I do,

But, it does concern me that I am not aware of who exactly reads what I share.
I know my public followers,
based on what they share online.
But my anonymous followers & people who read, but don't follow, could be anyone.
Axe murderers, for all I know.
[The few people who aren't followers, but have let me know they do read assure me they are not axe murderers, but for any others out there, I can't be certain].

So, as my followers increased,

I ceased using my children's names.

I even went through every post I shared with their names,

and changed them.

Not because I don't love their names,

but to give them some anonymity because this is not their blog.

Yes, it is about them, mostly.

But it's my words.

My views.

My take on life with them.

As they get older,

I will ask them what they would prefer to be called in the public forum called the Internet.
They may decide to allow me to use their real names,
or they can give themselves identities.
[if it were up to them now, Master S would be "car" & Miss E would be "BubBub". I know, I've asked them].

But for now, it is my discretion to refer to them as Master S & Miss E.

I am, and have always been 100% honest in my posts.

I don't know any bloggers who are not.
Having a blog is similar to shouting your point of view in a busy supermarket.
If you wouldn't share what you blog about in a supermarket,
then you shouldn't be blogging.

Hiding your identity means you can probably get away with more,

than if everyone were to know your name.

My personal Facebook,

which is my completely open space in the corner of the Internet,

to everyone who knows me,

[yet is private to those who do not]

is a field where I can throw idea's, opinions & a hell of a lot of other shit out there.

For this, I have often had many a debate,

or full blown fight on my page.

And this is with people who know me.

People who know I often suffer from "post now, think later" syndrome.

For this fact, and this fact alone,

I aim to protect my children from being snared in something they have no part in.

I am yet to have a blog "troll", as they are affectionately known as.

All my readers, and commenters, are lovely folk.
There isn't a comment I haven't published.

But I know that with my hot-headed ways,

one day I am going to piss someone right off,

and be in the firing line of one, if not many, trolls.

I am going to share one, if not many personal opinions on something,

that is going to make many people go "I thought she was normal".

For that day, I wish I had an anonymous identity.

For that day, is the reason I am glad my children do.

You all know my name is Tara.

Some of my followers know more than that.

I appreciate the discretion used by the followers of mine that do know more,

that when blogging about me, or my children,

they also do not share more than I do.

Just as I have done if blogging about them.

Because, at the end of the day,

it is not my place to tell the world what they haven't,

just as it is not their place to tell the world what I haven't.

This post has been waiting to escape my brain.
It was discovering that people I know,
are bloggers who share it all, that triggered this post.

So I put it to you,

How much sharing, is too much sharing?

Beauty Pageants make me sick.

I have been itching to post something on this topic, and since Amy @ New Adventures In Dreamworld has spoken up, I figured now was as good a time as any.

I did not watch the story on "A Current Affair" relating to children Beauty Queens.

I saw the ad's, knew it was going to be on, but did not wish to watch it.

Even before I had children, I found the idea of Beauty Pageants for little girls disgusting.

The thought of paedophiles scares me.

The thought of people voluntarily providing them with what they deem as pornographic content is scarier.

I don't know about anyone else, but I vividly remember my childhood.

I enjoyed playing.

Using my imagination.

Getting dirty.

Getting cuddles from my Mum.

I enjoyed cartoons.

"Camping" in the loungeroom with my Mum & little brother on cold nights.

Thursday night Girl Guides with a Happy Meal for dinner so we weren't eating too late.

Singing Abba.

Going on nighttime "hoons" with my grandparents & Mum to count how many bunnies, boats & red taxi's we could see.

Not to mention I went to school, had an active little social life with friends/sports etc.

I can safely say I do not recall having one single boring day in my youth.

I may have, but if I did, I don't remember it.

Now, trying to imagine squeezing make-up, hairdressers, botox & pageants into my busy little life is incomprehendable.

I look back at my old photo's and see a happy, gawky child.

I look at photo's of my own children and see happy, smiling kids, who are not quite gawky, yet, but they have a natural happy air about them.

To me, that is more beautiful, than this:

Image oh-too-easily pinched from here

If I, who knows not much about technology can access pictures of this child,

imagine, if you will, how many perves can edit it, and sell it for their own gratificiation.

Sickening, isn't it?

This is quite possibly the ugliest thing I have seen.

I am aware she's just a little girl, and I am in no way attacking her, personally.

When I say this is the ugliest thing I have seen, I mean the fact she is dressed up like a Barbie is ugly.

The parents who do this to their children, are ugly.

The fact that this girl is younger than my baby sister,

 and wears more make-up than I ever have as an adult, is ugly.

The thought that this little girl has probably had plastic surgery to fix some unknown blemish, is mortifying.

Fast forward a few years, and this girl will hit puberty.

Speaking from experience, that shit is tough.

Your body is changing.

You are growing taller,

Expanding everywhere.

The natural beauty of changing from a little girl into a woman,

for this child and several others,

has been tarnished already.

Her breasts will develop, and like all girls, one may appear larger than the other.

When my daughter goes through this awkward, wonderful, scary time of her life, I want to guide her.

Cuddle her.

Talk to her.

Tell her it's going to be okay, and when she is a woman, she will appreciate every curve, lump, bump, pimple.

And if any man is lucky enough to have the love of my daughter,

He will also appreciate every curve, lump, bump and pimple she has.

This little girl, and other's,

are being told at the age of 8, that they aren't perfect in every way already.

By their own mother's and father's.

By strangers who judge them like prize cattle.

Going over every inch of them like an animal.

I don't know about everyone else, but I was not offended by Barbie's shape.

I was not led to believe that real women looked like that.

Seriously, at the age of 8 when I had heaps of time to play with my Barbie's,

I was aware that she wasn't real.

She didn't even have a belly button!

I was raised by a real woman, around real women, who were beautiful to me because they were not only natural, but had kick arse personalities that made me love them more.

To mothers who push, pay, bitch, and extort your children in this way,

you are a disgrace.

My babies are perfect for who they are.

My daughter's nose is a little crooked.

Would I fix it with plastic surgery?

No, because it's a genetic trait she gets from her Daddy.

The birthmark she has on her side,

is an exact replica of mine.

To these mothers, they are imperfections.

To me, they are proof the babies I carried, nurture and love are mine.

Like every mother I believe my child is beautiful.

The difference between me and pageant mothers is, I do not need or want to change my children.

I do not care if people don't find my children to be adorable as they are.

At the end of the day, they are mine to love.

Mine to care about.

And if any other mother can not love their child "warts and all",

then they aren't very good mother's.

Teaching an Old Mum new tricks.

I have often referred to my Mum as "Mum".

Here's a brief post about the woman who's "hoo hoo" was never the same after she squeezed her first born [i.e ME] out into the world.

She hadn't learned much after labour, she went on to have my brother & three sisters.

She is married to the man whom I have referred to as "Dad".

She lives in a house with my siblings, my Dad, my Nana, and a menagerie of pets [including a snake I have NO DESIRE of holding].

Now, why am I blogging about my Mum?

Because she's blogging about me.

How cool is that?

As long as she doesn't ruin this cool persona I have created with awkward stories of changing my bum or something, then all shall be grand.

I was breastfed, and I'm sure she'll throw a crude joke about me being the first female to suckle on her, here and there just to keep things weird for me.

But, at the end of the day, she's Mum, and without her help, my kids would probably still be naked because she could dress them quicker than I could.

Feel free to check her out over here, show her some love, because heck, she is my Mum, and she's pretty darn rad.

*NOTE: This post was no way forced upon me. I decided to do it on my own without parental guidence.

Rant.

How can you make someone see reason?

When they obviously don't want to.

Make them see the hurt they've experienced at the hands of another,

When they have seemingly forgotten it,

As if it didn't happen?

How can you make someone open their eyes,

And not just look, but really see,

That they had so much,

Before they took two steps backwards?

How can you make someone think,

Like a mother,

For their child,

Instead of like a child,

For themselves?

Do I just stand back,

And let them see their own mistake when it hits them like a train,

And it will,

Or do I stand up and say,

What I've said,

Time & time again,

Only to be ignored?

I know it's better to let someone learn,

From their mistakes,

On their own,

But when this person has hurt someone,

Again,

And again,

And again,

How can I stand back & let it happen,

When there's another person to consider now?

When Creeps think you should like them.

Okay, let me just start by saying I was bullied in Primary School.

It was not as vicious or severe as bullying you see nowadays,

In fact, it was just name calling, but that ate away at my self confidence.

Had I known what I know now, I probably would have punched my bullies in the face and been done with it.

Me aged 7.

My bully was one genius girl who used her abnormally large friends henchmen to intimidate me,

and it worked.

Who wouldn't be intimidated by a 6 year old giant who resembles the troll in Harry Potter & the Philosopher's Stone?

I say My Bully was a genius because she was very clever.

I had buck teeth as a kid, so naturally, I got the nickname "Bugs Bunny".

Seriously, that was the best she had.

I obviously had a complex about it back then for it to hurt my feelings.

Who wouldn't, I guess?

I wasn't able to close my mouth properly.

I was also targeted for being a thumb sucker.

Just want to specify I never sucked my thumb, never had a dummy or anything that was "my fault" for having buck teeth.

I had overcrowding of the mouth, and several thousands of dollars later,

I am incredibly proud of the way I look,

And wish I had the confidence I have now back then because they all needed a slap for thinking they were creative by using "Bugs Bunny" as an insult.

Anyway, to the core of my story.

I was bullied from Grade 1, through to Grade 6 by the same group of arseholes girls.

That's 5 years of the same taunts everyday.

I ignored them. That didn't stop them.

I told on them. That didn't stop them.

In the end I embraced the idea of High School knowing all of those bitches were going elsewhere to me.

I got braces in Grade 4, and by Year 7, I didn't need them anymore.

My 13th Birthday was the end of wearing braces,

And in all honesty, was the end of my taunting.

I was never teased for my teeth again.

It has been a long time since I have seen any members of the "Snob Squad" as I named them.

[I did end up in High School with one of them, one who was nice to me, and whose only crime was being their friend when they bullied me, and I must say even though we don't speak now, she's become quite successful. You go girl!]

In the nearly 12 years it's been since I've seen any of those jerks, a lot has changed.

The difference in my teeth is one.

The fact that I completed school, got married and became a mother, is another.

There is only one thing that has not changed in that 12 years, and that is the raw feeling of hate I have for those girls who made my early schooling a nightmare.

You may be wondering why I am blogging about this.

Because one of said girls has tried, and failed many times to add me as a friend on Facebook.

Yes, it's been a long time.

Yes, I do have people added on my Facebook that were in Primary School with me.

But my "friends" list is reserved for that.

FRIENDS.

I hated her for 5 whole years.

Just seeing photo's of her now makes me wish I had been strong enough back then to point out all HER shortcomings, and see how she liked being laughed at. See how she liked being called names.

She's tried, several times to add me, and I have resorted to blocking her after the millionth "why aren't you adding me?" email.

She's even gone as far as asking her mother who was friends with my mother in High School to make me add her.

My Mum knows my reasons for not adding her [and so does she] but the constant adding attempts continue.

I blocked her, just so she'd piss off.

But what does one do when blocked... rather than go away and get a life?

She makes new Facebook accounts and tries again.

Don't get me wrong, I am awfully flattered that her life revolves around making me like her, when years ago, it revolved around her making my life a misery.

I would be enjoying this a lot more if it wasn't creepy, and I didn't have a busy life.

I'm not de-activating my Facebook, as it's the only way I can keep in touch with people at this stage, but seriously, it's getting on my nerves having her ugly profile photo show up in my Requests list.

I even left one friend request pending, and posted a bitchy status about her, so she'd see it and she STILL tries to add me as a friend.

What would you do in this situation? It's a little too weird for me.

Psychotic Parents Search.

A few weeks ago, I received an email from Bonds telling me it was "That time of Year again".

Yes, the Bonds Baby Search.

I entered Master S in 2009, and decided since I now have Miss E, I'd enter them both for 2011.

Why?

Because I love showing off my kids. I also love browsing through the thousands of entrants and seeing the sweet chubby faces of the other entrants. They all look different, but they are all beautiful.

I browsed the list with Master S sitting next to me pointing at every baby saying "Bub".

But, it's been warped from something fun into something ugly.

When my two year old looks at the babies, he smiles & says "Bub".

He see's them for what they are, babies.

There are adults out there targetting babies, innocent, defenseless babies, for how they look, and making disgusting remarks about them.

My son is at an age where a baby is a "bub", like his sister.

A toddler is like him.

A woman is like Mum.

A man is like Dad.

There's no difference between him & another child of the same age.

There's no difference between him & his friend at PlayGroup who has darker skin than him.

To him, they are the same.

To me, they are the same.

They are both two year old boys.

They are both cheeky.

They are both funny.

They have a friendship that is truly beautiful to watch.

Yes, they fight with each other,

Not because they don't look the same,

It's never been about that,

But because when one is playing with something, odds are the other child wants the same toy.

Why can't adults see the world the way my child does?

We all want to be treated as equal, but we aren't.

Some parents in the Bonds Baby Search have made me realise how inequal we are.

Not because their skin is a different shade of white to mine.

Not because their family was probably in this country longer than mine.

But because we are different in our way of thought,

Which ultimately will lead to the difference in our parenting.

My main concern as a Mother is that my children will be happy and healthy.

I know the world is a cruel place, but I had hopes that we were past the point of racial & religious slurs and could get the fuck on with it.

Obviously not.

If a parent see's things so "black and white", odds are their child will be raised the same way.

Their child will never get to truly appreciate the world for what it is,

And instead their views and understanding will be tarred by something ugly.

Racism.

Hate.

I am debating on whether or not to remove my kids from the Bonds Baby Search.

Something fun for myself, and my kids has been ruined, and I know that from here on in, I will never participate again.

Some people should be ashamed of themselves.

Their ugliness runs through their blood, the way they think, and act,

Not because of how they look.