Yoga - girly pastime or extreme sport?

My gorgeous svelte neighbour got me into Yoga earlier this year and I thought I would go along to relax and chill-out. You know get in touch with my inner self and all that palava, I mean I was kinda desperate being a corporate tragic with two boys under five. Half way through I was dripping with sweat trying to get my arms behind my ears with my arse in the air. It was FULL on. 

Downward facing dog - more like downward facing agony with breathing added in so you don't die. I was shocked! 

And at times when doing planks and upward dogs, downward dogs at speed I took the option of collapsing on my face to recover, the instructor said it was ok and that I was in child pose (she was being nice!)

Although you wouldn't know it to look at me now I was once a rower, I even did surfboats for a season, so I have subjected myself to all sorts torture many times over (6km erg tests are the worst). And unlike the one person in the world that stopped rowing in a race, that happened to happen in the Olympics, I'm like the other 99.99999% of them and never have. So being done in by Yoga, was a little bit of a surprise, albeit (eventually) a pleasant one. 

There is a reason, I discovered, why there are Yoga studios popping up on every single street corner, it is a weird juxtaposition of spirituality and physical exertion that makes it so amazing. What other sport do you feel like your inner being is being worked on while your hamstrings scream in agony. It is completely illogical and completely effective. 

The eagle pose - note the sweat people - hardcore.... 

I was lucky enough to be at a resort for two weeks that had Yoga most mornings so I went along and found that my downward facing dog started to get less agonising even within an hour and a half. I also noticed my shoulders that normally are attached to my ears dropped a little more after each class. My 'question mark' body normally curved around a device was straightening out and turning the other way (?) and it seemed that maybe some more blood was getting to my brain. 

Look my point is quite simply if you are a hardcore cardio tragic and you think Yoga would be too light for your amazing VO2 then think again, it will be right up your alley and it might calm you down at the same time as working the crap out of your bunched up muscles.

Do it peeps - it so rocks, even for rowers, runners, spin-junkies and any other psychotic sport-types. Namaste!

Update: Discovered hot yogi that can only be described as a walking muscle at my local - even happier now!

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Small Bump, Huge tears: the agony of miscarriage

I am sharing this song because although it is likely to do to you what it did to me, namely make you spontaneously burst into tears, which arguably isn't that pleasant, it is too beautiful not to. 

The scans of my unmade plans

What an unbelievably rare talent, Ed Sheeran is that he can capture so perfectly the hope and love that happens even before you meet a baby. It defies all logic but nonetheless the love is palpable and I would know as I only got to meet two of my four. 

I know I am one of the lucky ones but even so I still remember the shocking emotional agony of my miscarriages. There are people all around the world trying to define at what point divided cells become life - for me it is that first magical moment of connection. Eight weeks later when a once beating heart was no longer, there was no comfort in knowing how early or how developed or not, because a new life had died before it had lived, and all the hopes and dreams I had attached to this very small person died suddenly with it. 

My comfort came in the form of another two babies and although I knew they were different and unique lives, they were still new and perfect with wonderous eyes and gorgeous potential. But this song reminds me of the cruelty of miscarriage and the absurdity of losing the love of your life and all of those precious unmade plans...

"Hold on tight, it'll be alright" xxx

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Turning Tables: discovering first loves again

When I was 16 I wouldn't have believed you if you told me that I wouldn't actively listen to music for about three years in a row. In fact at 30 I still wouldn't have believed you. Music was integral to my existence, my soul and my body, which was more often than not, moving to it. 

Pass-times can be one of those sneaking casualties of becoming a parent, especially if you end up going back to work, like me. The only music that made it past the turning point of birth were my wedding compilation albums, the occasional superb song like Foster the People's Pumped up kicks and the three songs I sing to the boys at bedtime; Close to you, Evergreen and Someone to watch over me. 

Well am happy to report a cool phase has begun with my babies now big enough for me to start remembering loves, pre- the biggest love of my life. One of them has been my hubby, but that's another less G-rated blog post and as you've probably guessed, the other is listening, playing, dancing and singing. 

Triple J has some really annoying DJs, but when they are not talking they are still educating Australia on the latest and best music ever made. And if classics are not your strong point then I can't recommend the first five series of Glee highly enough, with soundtracks of whole generations captured in a new and creative way. 

Anyway it wouldn't be a useful post if I didn't share a favourite that hopefully becomes a part of the soundtrack for your life too. And if it is anything like mine, the tables have turned again.

  What have you rediscovered that the baby years briefly took away?

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Hairy Man or Perfect Man? How do u take your men?

I was channel surfing tonight on the radio as I drove home from work and in the endless search for a decent piece of music (Triple J being the only Sydney station capable of this it seems) I happened upon a sentence that caught my attention "It seems the perfect man has been defined at last" said Sami Lukis and so I stopped flicking and listened intently, wondering if my own "perfect" man would make the cut. 

According to a study surveying 2000 women in the UK it seems the perfect man is not as close to the "cave man" I've always preferred myself. But when I think about my time in the UK, even back in 1998 guys were wearing slip-on shoes and spending as much money on clothes as I was, so maybe the girls over there just like 'em more, more... well girly, I suppose. Which would explain the survey resulting in a hairless chest bonus and the smart dressing requirement, complete with v-neck jumper, Audi and a love of shopping - WTF!? I am alone in wanting to barf? 

Near hairfree Zac Efron fits the perfect man bill in the UK, if only he could break down a door (doubtful)

Not sure if it's an Aussie thing but I prefer my man straight up in a sort of slightly scruffy, rougher and kinda more inarticulate sort of way. Something that means my own mediocre efforts at perfection still make me look beautiful in comparison to him. My clothes need to be sharper, my hair needs to be softer and neater, my skin needs to be softer and my chest less hairy. 

Hairy and sloppy makes Gerard Butler not the Perfect Man - proving at last Poms are mad!

Fear not if you happen to be a manly man unfortunate enough to be born amongst Paul Smith-wearing English natives as some semblance of manliness is still valued by UK women. They still want him to be a meat-eating, beer-swilling, football-watching, honest-ogling, tyre-changer who can break down a door in an emergency! So in between waxing, shaving, preening, crying during films and loving shopping men also need to be macho and funny to boot. Hmmm, feeling a cake and eating too type phrase emerging. 

But then again Men have wanted women to play about ten thousand different roles since the beginning of time so a little high expectations directed back towards them for the first time in millions of years, hey it's probably timely. 

So off to book my hubby into a day entailing a dip in a vat of wax, a few hours in Pitt St Mall and about five minutes in the local Audi dealership (I already know what model I want).

Caveman (Gerard) or Metroman (Zac)? How do you prefer your men?

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Hardest job in the world is the best...blubbering alert!

My husband is always showing me ads, as we are both Marketers and met while we were working in Advertising. So he thinks in my spare time I want to spend my time watching ads.

 I do not. 

But tonight I begrudgingly watched my fifth Olympics ad and yes the four previous were also forced upon me in my couch time, and by couch I mean braindead, but not braindead enough to not yell at the end of each one "I don't want to watch another Olympics ad! Stop! Please!". By 30 seconds in I knew this one was different and by one minute in I was gulping for air, trying to hold back tears. By the end I was demolished wet mess, grasping for tissues as I tried to speak. All I could manage in between sobs was "That's a good ad". My husband was hysterical by now, tears streaming down his face...as he laughed at me (he is obviously deeply empathetic - NOT!) 

Anyway enough of the back story, it's time for to enjoy, and I use enjoy in the loosest sense. It is worth it though, it is a beautiful and likely award winning campaign. Only thing is please watch in the immediate vicinity of a full box of tissues and preferably with a sensitive partner around, if you are luckier than me and have one!

Did you cry?

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"Sometimes we wish for far away" man I love Powderfinger

This song was one of those songs I waited for when I listened to Powderfinger's album Odyssey Number Five, which I happened to listen to a lot in 2000 and 2001. I had just ended a 2 year de-facto relationship at 30 and my life was at a turning point. The understated agony in their music resonated with my own confused heart. 

I was reminded of my buried obsession one night driving home when someone with obviously impeccable music taste, I think on Triple M, played 'DEF', my second favourite song of theirs. And then by my mate Purple_Cath who was sharing her love of Powderfinger yesterday on Twitter. We lamented together their decision to disband.

Powderfinger farewelling the crowd at one of their final concerts... :(

So what better way to reignite my passion for men, such as these, that just reach in to my chest and grab my heart but than writing about it here. Enjoy, and I hope it brings back memories of late nights, dancing in muddy fields and stolen kisses. 

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The Bøøb more lethal than The Slap?

'The Slap' captured my imagination back in October 2011 and last week aired in the US. If you haven't seen it yet it has to be one of the best series I've ever seen! Here is how the first episode got to me back then. 

Like a lot of Australians last night I sat glued to the ABC for the debut of ABCTV’s ‘The Slap’, the TV series immortalising the controversial novel of the same name. So there I sat, patiently waiting for the aforementioned slap to occur.

But then a different scene slapped me far harder than a whack ever could. There was a mother still breastfeeding her four year old at a BBQ. In front of a few six year olds, no less.

At this point a collective “Eeeewwww” echoed through Twitter and presumably loungerooms nationally. Then the defence began. Women tweeted furiously: breastfeeding is a natural and beautiful thing! A woman has a right to breast feed for as long as she likes, where she likes!

As a public breastfeeder myself up until five months ago, I have no issue with other women whipping them out wherever they need to. The choice is either a starving baby in pain, screaming it’s head off or a flash of nipple. I know which I would prefer.

Why I screwed up my nose at the scene and then groaned at those defending her afterwards was because this was not a depiction of a child needing a feed. This was a sad dysfunctional scene of parents failing their child on a number of levels. If a little boy is old enough to hit other children, break their expensive games consoles and wield a cricket bat at their heads, he is old enough to be taught the difference between right and wrong, and ordered off to the naughty corner. Instead his insipid mother offers him the reward of a comforting breastfeed.

This is all types of wrong and has very little to do with the rights of mothers worldwide to breastfeed in a “whateverworksforyou” kind of way.

Have we become so politically correct, so populist that we can’t stand up and say that this woman is turning something beautiful into something revolting and wrong? I hope not, because I was completely grossed out and I will not apologise for recoiling as I watched two people selfishly undermine a healthy foundation for their son.

There is something inherently wrong with abusing the responsibility we as parents have. We possess a huge amount of power over our children’s lives and threatening them physically or emotionally, is jeopardising the very framework of which they will rely upon for the rest of their lives. The bøøb, in this case, is as lethal as the slap.

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IS LOVE LOST BEST FORGOTTEN?: The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

There is nothing not to love about a movie who’s leading lady describes herself as applying “my personality in a paste”. From the moment Clementine, played by Kate Winslet, bounds to life, bowling over Joel’s (played seriously and amazingly by Jim Carrey) more conservative character, I was in serious adoration. 

Source: Piccsy.com

“Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind” written by Charlie Kaufman, was his third film following the first brilliant, amazing, mind-blowing “Being John Malkovich” and his second, not as successful “Adaptation”. And although being released way back in 2004, is timeless in it's unique insight into our hearts. 

If like me you’ve been buried in poo and/or lego for years, you will have forgotten about this movie. But if ever there was something that could make you remember life before parenthood, this is it. You know when your biggest problem was finding the man of your dreams, or having found him, keeping the spark alive with dancing, music, movies, conversation and adventures. What else was there? 

My husband* describes most of my favourite movies as weird, so if you like mainstream, logical-type films, like he does, you will not like this one. This film is so weird any description is fairly lacking but it is centred around a couple, Clementine and Joel, who fall in love, then out of love and break up. Nothing new there, until Clementine happens upon a company that offers to erase the memory of Joel. When Joel finds out he does the same and we get to watch as he realises too late that he wants to remember their love.

It’s a crazy idea but somehow it takes nothing away from the rawness and beauty of love and heartbreak. I swim in the roller coaster of Joel and Clementine’s relationship, from toe-curling first kisses and romantic adventures to screaming and slamming doors.

Most of all I love the exploration of fate. What would my life have been like if I had never met this person or that? Is trying to change your existence fruitless because what is meant to be will always be, whether you like it or not? Is the love of your life someone you left behind or the person you are with?

I know there are a few blokes I could happily erase from my past – but would it make my life better or would I end up making the mistake again because I won’t learn from what I can’t remember?

If you need a break from the world of parenthood check this movie out and if you have teenagers, make them watch it too – they will be instantly cool!

*My husband should like this film when the lead character says this “Constantly talking isn't necessarily communicating.” I might make him watch it again maybe after 8 years of marriage he will relate a lot more!

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MUMMY'S FUNKY FRIDAY: Fly through the air

Carrie clearing her head on a Trapeze near New York. Image copyright: HBO.com

It seems that Summer’s coming twice this year after a return to Winter over the last week. When the 5 days of clouds parted today I put my scarf and boots away again (I hope for the last time this year) and breathed a huge sigh of relief. The warmth reminded me again that getting out in to the fresh air is like therapy for everyone, especially couped up toddlers going stir crazy, while their Mums lose their mind.

There are a few ways to stave off rainy week insanity, one is of course to read this blog, two is spend a small fortune on a mental health professional and a third is to do something daring you normally wouldn’t do. This Funky Friday why not show Carrie Bradshaw up and fly on a Trapeze.

The Sydney Trapeze School has set up its' outdoor trapeze rig in the Brazilian Fields of Centennial Park and are there until Sunday February 19. But wait for it, they have Mums and Bubs classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays 10:15am-12:15pm! The cost seems to be around the $55 mark for one session.

Nothing like hanging upside down, flying through the air and falling on your head to clear the damage a week of crying and whinging has done to you, and it may stop the kids screaming too or at least turn them into squeals of delight.

Don’t worry if you are not in Sydney there are outdoor trapeze setups all over Australia, here are some links to start you off. 

Circus Arts, Sydney Olympic Park Aquatic Centre, Olympic Boulevard, Homebush (Also Byron Bay, Cairns and Ballina)

Flying Trapeze Centre, Melbourne

Cirque Espace, Novotel Twin Waters Resort, Sunshine Coast

SkyHigh Trapeze, Perth

Go fly!

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MUMMY'S FUNKY FRIDAY: Street Art

Give me Streets around the world over a stuffy gallery any day!

Welcome to the second week of Mummy's Funky Friday, your weekly dose of my new favourite word, alt-worthy stuff that will revive your inner cool. Funnily enough the music of last week could be the soundtrack for this week. Enjoy!

I am not one of those types that is going to try and convince you that graffiti is cool. Most graffiti is bloody awful and it costs normal people lots of money to make their suburban home look less like the local meth lab.

But in cities around the world there has been a craze growing that actually enhances the urban environment – it's called Street Art and it's nothing short of inspiring. 

And until December 11 you can see some of the work of the most famous international street artists at Cockatoo Island in Sydney. Among the collections exhibited the Oi You! one is a must-see boasting the largest private collection of the enigmatic, stencil guru, Banksy. And this guy(see below), Ethos from Brazil, has peeled himself from the wall of a five-storey building in LA to come and paint live on Cockatoo Island. Now that’s sorta yeow^ and is just how he rolls (see how alt-worthy^ I’m becoming….don’t answer that). 

So when the kids are yelling at you this week to buy them a present or give them a treat, throw them on a ferry and go and see some industrial urban transformation. Their eyes will be wide not just with the mint^ cool art but with how hektik^ their rents* now are! 

For more info visit http://www.outpostproject.com.au 

Teenglish glossary:

*rents=parents
^hektik, mint, yeow and alt-worthy all sort of mean cool…I think

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MUMMY'S FUNKY FRIDAY : Pumped Up Kicks

My recent Friday Night Lights stories got me thinking about how life as a parent can be so boring that a loud street party you're not at and a bit of car bashing being done by a drunken lout to your own car is about as exciting as it gets. TRAGIC! And then this song came on the radio (I haven't yet given in to the grown up impulse to switch to talkback radio) and I found myself dancing hands in the hair, dance party style in the front seat of our car (don't worry I wasn't driving, god help us if I were).

Source: Fosterthepeople.com

This reminded me that I used to be an obsessed music chick that danced whenever she got the chance but especially in front of Chris Cornell in Rotterdam, ColdPlay in a muddy field in Byron Bay and Foo Fighters at Big Day Out to name a few. Although my true claim to fame was when a girlfriend and I cleared the dance floor in Nottingham when Run D.M.C's 'It's like that' came on. Today you are more likely to find me rocking out to Toot Toot Chugga Chugga Big Red Car (one day I might show you the video, 'lovingly' recorded by my hubby) and although I love The Wiggles for the smiles they bring to my children's faces, they have nothing on the strong guitar riffs and unshaven growls of the likes of Dave Grohl, which I had forgotten...until now.

So I bring you (and me) the first instalment of MUMMY'S FUNKY FRIDAY, your way out of being a boring parent who's only view to the outside world is somewhere between Larry & Kylie on The Morning Show and Tony or Alan Jones, depending on your political sway. And although all of these people make an amazing contribution to society in their own way, you don't want to find yourself quoting them during the rare times you get out of the house and talk to people taller than 4ft. Instead you can now say "Have you heard of that band 'Foster the people'?" and there you have it - instant COOL.

Pumped Up Kicks is their first single and it has made them a global hit. If you can ignore that the lyrics are about a dysfunctional youth with an absent father who's recently got his hand on a gun then this is the perfect Summer anthem. Jill Menze of Billboard describes why saying "[it] boasts a laid-back, lo-fi '60s vibe, a slick bassline and an undeniably catchy chorus" all which make it impossible not to at least tap your foot to, even with a toddler on board. In fact I challenge you not to start bopping up and down in a daggy Mum kinda way!

And so you can appear amazingly informed Foster the people was formed out of LA and was originally named Foster & the people after frontman Mark Foster, but this was continually misheard and the band gave up trying to correct it and changed the name. They played at Splendour in the Grass (that field I was talking about above if you didn't already know), in July, which I didn't attend because I was up at the same time rocking in a not-so-fun-way with my then baby. But now that I'm cool again maybe I can get to their rumoured appearance at Big Day Out 2012 (Stop laughing!)

Luckily the video above is just snippets from this young band's tour footage rather than teenagers outrunning gunmen, and although I've never been a rock star, well not in real life anyway, I have been that girl in the front row, wearing not very much and dancing like my life depended on it, all the while making eyes at the lead singer. This song is all types of nostalgic and this Mum is completely dreamy about it, I hope it has the same affect on you. 

HOW COOL ARE YOU NOW? (or how behind am I?)

©MyIdeaLife, 2011, All rights reserved

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