Prize Cow

Ladies and Gentleman of the Interwebs. Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking, I stand before you as the recipient of the Best Australian/NZ Web Log in the 2010 Bloggies.

Oh? You hadn’t heard that I won? I find that hard to believe, especially since I could be heard four suburbs away when I hollered down the phone at my friend MM : “I WON! I FUCKING WELL WON!” followed by: “I’M SORRY, BUT I DON’T APPEAR TO BE ABLE TO STOP SHOUTING – I’M THAT FUCKING EXCITED!”.

The three year olds I was in charge of at the time were also excited about the news. But they were equally excited about the squashed sultana they found between the pages of the Women’s Weekly Birthday Cake Book a few minutes later. AND they still expected me to make them their lunch, Bloggies win or not. Honestly, some preschoolers have no sense of occasion.

Still, I continued to celebrate (and shout) as I made sandwiches and cut up fruit. For example: “Do you want the crusts on or off – OH MY GOD! – what about some grapes – HOLY CRAP I WON!! – careful with your water there – YAHOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEE!!”. Eventually, however, I found it within myself to stop the shouting because even I could see that I was starting to frighten the children.

I then decided to go out and celebrate by taking my posse of three-year-olds to their scheduled Acting Class. Yes, you read that right: these three- year-olds are studying the dramatic arts, darling. But before you start thinking the teacher’s dressed in a black polo neck saying shit like “Anastacia, this is Brecht we’re doing here: you need to present the audience with the line, not represent it…”, let me assure you it’s more about running around the room pretending to be a monster or a farm animal or a celebrated blogger (that last one’s just me). Why, last week I got to play “The Prize Cow” in a role-play exercise, which some people are now claiming was typecasting. (Interestingly enough, The Pixie can only write three words by heart: her name, my name and “COW”. In the first week of school she drew a picture of her teacher with the word COW written in large letters. I told her teacher that it happened all the time to me and I tried not to take it personally. But I digress.)

Anyway, on the way to the acting class, I cranked up the mix tape my husband had made me for our recent mini-break and before I knew it, I was singing at the top of my lungs to The Divinyl’s “I touch myself” while stopped at the traffic lights. With the windows wound down. And three small children in the back seat. And yes, there were onlookers and everything. Result.

A few people have asked me how I feel now and if everything feels “different”. I may be still air-punching on the inside but life goes on as usual for the Bloggies Winner:  there are still bottoms to be wiped, fights to be broken up, Wii treaties to be negotiated, dishes to be done and blog posts to be written. A mother’s work is truly never done…

But nothing drove this home more than yesterday morning when I went to the Children’s Hospital for a routine appointment.  There, I saw many amazing mothers just carrying on with their daily lives as they wheeled, carried or just held their sick and sometimes fading children.  And I realised that no matter how much I complain sometimes and how much of a  drama I make of things, there are others who have to work a lot harder than me at mothering and not drowning.

I’d like, therefore, to accept my award on behalf of all mothers, but those mothers in particular.

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Anyone planning to send me cash in the mail, please send it to the Royal Children’s Hospital Foundation instead – they’re far less likely to blow it all on cheap champagne and chocolate.

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Shameless!

IT’S OFFICIAL! Über -blogger and long-time hero of mine, The Bloggess has formally endorsed my campaign for the title of Best Australian/NZ Weblog in the 2010 Bloggies.

And by “formally endorsed”, I mean she’s posted something about it on flickr.

“How did this happen?” I hear you ask.

Well, a few days ago, I wrote her a series of emails politely requesting her support. And by “politely requesting”, I mean “pathetically begging”. And for the record, I do a very good line in pathetic begging. Don’t believe me? I’ll let you be the judge:

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TO:  The Bloggess
FROM: The NDM
SUBJECT: READ THIS EMAIL OR I’LL EAT THE VEGIE PORN STAR

Dear Jennie,

I am one of your blogging peers. I, too, am a finalist for the Bloggies. Except, well, if the truth be told, you’re like a finalist for the Bloggies and I’m like a finalist for the distant and possibly inbred cousin of the Bloggies. Yes, I am one of five Australia/New Zealand finalists. It’s a pity there couldn’t be six finalists because then all our region’s bloggers would have had a chance. Yes, I can make jokes, you know.

Anyway, I’m up against some tough competition… Is there some way you could please help further my cause via twitter or your blog? Wouldn’t you like to see the under-dog win? Although I’m loathe to use the term “under-dog” because I’m always worried it means the dog who’s taking it up the arse from the other dog on top of them.

ANYWAY, as a present to you, I am offering you this picture of a porn star I once made out of vegetables with my friend. I’m afraid that parts of her *did* get eaten some months ago – so my threat in the subject title was a little hollow. Although I’m sure part of her is still at the bottom of the compost bin, so I technically could still eat her except I expect that threatening to eat six month old compost won’t exactly spur you into action. But it might. You never know.

Yours sincerely and just an itsy-bitsy bit desperately,

The NDM

_____________________________________________________________

TO: The Bloggess
FROM: The NDM
SUBJECT: RE: READ THIS EMAIL OR I’LL EAT THE VEGIE PORN STAR

PS. Did you like how I spelt your name “Jennie”? It’s just incase you were offended by the email and then I could claim it was intended for someone else.
_____________________________________________________________

TO: The Bloggess
FROM: The NDM
SUBJECT: RE: READ THIS EMAIL OR I’LL EAT THE VEGIE PORN STAR

PPS. OH AND MY FRICKIN’ BLOG TITLE IS “NOT DROWNING, MOTHERING” AND THE ADDRESS IS HTTP://NOTDROWNING.WORDPRESS.COM

It’s no wonder Australia never wins wars or anything. We’re fucking hopeless.

_____________________________________________________________

FROM: The Bloggess
TO: The NDM
SUBJECT: RE: READ THIS EMAIL OR I’LL EAT THE VEGIE PORN STAR

http://www.flickr.com/photos/thebloggess/4308592975/ For you.

_____________________________________________________________

My sincere gratitude goes out to the Bloggess for a) indulging me with her flickr post and b) not alerting the authorities. And also to all my friends and family who have put up with endless rounds of emails begging them to vote for me this past week. I promise it won’t happen again. No, really. 

Please feel free to add your own endorsement in the comments section below and remember to Vote 1 for “Not Drowning, Mothering”  before 31st January 10:PM EST (That’s somewhere-in-America time).

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Just Another Mommy Blogger

Yes, the rumours are true. Through a heady combination of persistence, persuasion and outright blackmail, I’ve managed to get myself named as a finalist for the Australia/NZ category of the 2010 Bloggies.

Now, before anyone starts muttering “Whoopie-fucking-shit” and hinting that making the Aus/NZ finalists is like qualifying for the Alice Springs Ski Squad or being selected for the English cricket team, let me say this: there’s a lot of talent out down under and I feel very honoured (if a little surprised) to have made it thus far. Fact. 

Okay, so that’s enough of being gracious and modest and that. Let’s talk Strategy…

Honestly, it’s like an episode of The West Wing in my humble little house right now, what with the amount of campaign talk going down. Except that instead of all that walking and fast talking, there is a lot of running (kids) and loud shouting (me). Also there’s no talk of the Iowa Caucus because, although I’ve watched all seven seasons of The West Wing a number of times, I still have no idea what a caucus is or what the hell it is doing in Iowa. I just know that someone ought to clean that shit up.

ANYWAY, so far the only vaguely strategic thing I’ve managed to do is post a link on facebook. Oh, and I’ve briefly contemplated streaking at the Australian Open with N-D-M emblazoned across my ample arse. 

Yes, I’m a winner alright. 

Now, let’s talk Message. 

As I write, my quiet little blog is being trampled by hundreds of Bloggies Tourists wondering what the hell “yet another Mommy Blogger” is doing in the finalists. In fact, my Campaign Media Liaison (i.e. me) uncovered one critical remark on twitter accusing the Australian/NZ nominations for being “basically women’s mags done as blogs”.

I was deeply affronted by this allegation. For one thing I couldn’t think of a single women’s mag on the market that would call Elmo a prick, advocate anal botox or suggest microwaving underpants to get them dry.

Nor could I think of a single women’s mag that would publish this photo:

This is why you should never remove the dust baffle on your fridge, people.

 

Or this one:

Vegie Porn Star

 

Or even this one:

Too many gin martinis for the class mascot

 

Basically, you could say I’m “just another Mommy Blogger”. But if all Mommies (and indeed Mummies) are like me, then you should also start praying for the future of our planet. After you’ve voted for me HERE, that is.

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