Listography - 5 Blogging Tips

I thought I'd join in with this week's Listography on the Kate Takes 5 blog.  The subject this week is blogging.  Blogging about blogging is something I try not to do too often, but I couldn't resist this.

Lots of other bloggers have mentioned twitter, touched on SEO, blog buttons, aesthetics, word verification (for the sake of the Lord would you switch it off!) and various techie things, but I wanted to come at it from another angle.

Here are my 5 tips for bloggers:

1.  Be your own person

Don't follow the crowd, unless you really want to.  Write what you want to write, not what you think you should be writing about.  Write for the enjoyment of it not for the hits - the hits will come.  There is no set way to blog, no magic number of words, no set amount of pictures, no pre-determined amount of times you need to blog each week.  It's your blog so do it your way!

2.  Don't expect a huge following straight away

It takes time to build up a blog following, and lots of hard work pimping yourself and getting yourself known in whatever circle you want your blog to be successful in.  Don't be surprised if it takes 6-12 months to feature in any rankings list.

Expecting PRs to start throwing free stuff at you when your blog has only been going a couple of weeks is seriously unrealistic, and really off-putting to your readers if you start begging for products to review.

3.  Think about who you're writing about

Anything you write on your blog can be found, unless you've locked down your blog.  Chances are that if you write a scathing post about your husband's best mate they will find it and be mighty pissed off about it.  If you can't say whatever you want to write to their face, then don't put it on your blog.  And always ask permission before posting pictures of other people or their children on your blog.

4.  Ride the loss of blogging mojo

It will happen, one day you will run out of blogging steam.  You will be devoid of ideas, anything you attempt to write will just look stupid and you'll toy with the idea of giving it up.  Don't stress yourself out, just give yourself a few days/weeks off and the mojo will be back.

5.  Don't steal, credit

Quite often I get the inspiration for a blog post from reading someone else's post.  It's perfectly OK to cover the same subject as someone else, to either completely disagree or add to the original point with your own views, just make sure you link back to the other person's blog.  Extra brownie points if you're really nice and retweet theirs or share on Facebook.





Wikio

Not Keeping Up with the Carters

Much has been written about Beyoncé and Jay Z's new bundle of joy, Blue Ivy, although bizarrely nothing about the current trend of naming your child something that sounds like a bathroom cleaning product... Blue Ivy, Harper (harpic) 7... etc.  All the articles I've read on the matter seem to have a lot of emphasis on money, which could make the average run-of-the-mill parent like myself feel a little bit of a skint-flint when comparing.


The couple allegedly spent over a million dollars bullet-proofing their maternity ward and hiring a top-notch security team to patrol the hospital. Just in case any piddling member of the public want to get a glimpse of the tot before they've sold the pictures for a few million bucks*. Sadly this seems to have meant that some other new fathers have found themselves on the wrong end of a face-palm from a bloke who looks like a brick shit-house, when all they wanted to do was go and tend to their own new-borns and knackered wives.  But still, a million dollars to ensure the safety of their child, and here am I re-using Joseph's old car seat.  Bad mum!


In the few days of Blue's short life (seriously who'd name their kid after a colour *cough*), the child has already amassed a fortune of gifts worth over a million pounds that includes designer outfits, a Swarovski crystal covered highchair and a solid gold rocking horse worth £390,000 from a Japanese jeweller.  Clearly plenty of money does not equal good taste, but hey I'm sure Bouncy Bouncy and Jay Zed can find some nook or cranny in their palatial New York pad to house all this tat. Not to mention have plenty of time shout to each other "Shawn, Shawn! Quick, get that bloody horse out of the box room, Mr Miyagi San's at the front door!"  And let's face it, it won't be Beyoncé scrubbing pureed parsnip and regurgatated weetabix from betwixt those bloody crystals will it?


Her crib, the one she lies in not her house (see, I'm down with the kids), apparently cost her parents, or whichever damn fool who bought it, a staggering $12,000 and was described as fit for Cinderella—which is odd 'cos I always thought Cinderella was a pauper?  Anyway, I can only look in dismay at our teething chewed, Joseph hand-me-down Ikea cot-bed that he'd only just stopped sleeping in months before she was born.  God-damn shameful Mum!

Thank fuck my apartment is the size of a matchbox

Who only can guess what other riches this child will have bestowed upon her before her first birthday, but I'm sure the Daily Fail will take great delight in telling us.  Right after they've chastised Beyoncé for walking in killer heels, but in a separate article praise her super-rapid weight loss.  At the same time my daughter, just a couple of months ahead of Blue, will be dressed in last year's sale clothes and I'll be in my five year old birkos carrying two pregnancy's worth of undesired weight.


Still, two good things can come of this: firstly that no-coat wearing Holmes/Cruise child will get less press attention - please God let it be true - and secondly I'll hopefully be long dead before all these overspoilt little girls become women and get papped even more for being famous for being famous.  






* in my humble, if not a tad cynical, opinion.

Wikio

Review - Dream Bag España

Anyone who has a new born baby will realise that sleep can be hard to come by.  Some people are blessed with children who could sleep through hurricanes and never stir, sadly both of my children would wake at a drop of a feather!  Anything that aids a few more hours sleep a night is a huge bonus.

Currently Amber is still in her Moses basket, there isn't a great deal of room in there for her but our bedroom isn't large enough to have the cotbed in, well not if we want to get in and out of the room anyway.  The cover that came with Moses basket was seriously inadequate, just a small, shaped padded cover that wouldn't stay on her.  Blankets were either too constricting if tucked in or would again end up in a heap, or worse over her head with her constant thrashing around trying dispel some trapped wind.

The Dream Bag is great, as it means that we can keep her temperature constant, no faffing around with blankets and there isn't that shock from putting her down on cold sheets when she's fallen asleep in my arms after an early hours feed.  The bag is quite a bit longer and wider than other ones that I've used, this is great as again it gives her more room to manoeuver, especially when she's pulling up her knees so much.   The 2.5 tog is great for the colder Spanish winters, where tiled floors and heating via air conditioning units do not make for a very cosy environment and the fact that it's quilted on the inside makes it feel warmer than other makes.

Amber in Daisy Daisy Dream Bag

I received the Daisy Daisy bag to review and I was seriously impressed at how beautiful the embroidery is.  Even my 5 year old boy commented on how pretty it looked!  I can also vouch for how well the Dream Bag washes after a couple of incidents with projectile vomiting.

The clever ladies of Dream Bag España have taken all the good design points of other sleeping bags for babies and incorporated them into one bag that can be used from 10lb up to 3 years of age.  Full length zips, poppers on the shoulders and a cover over the zip fastening so older babies can undo the zip themselves are all great features.  The bag also comes in 11 colourful designs that would suit either a boy or girl and three different tog sizes to suit the climate.

Living in Spain, I am forever amazed at how expensive baby things are, having recently been stung for €60 for a hand breast pump I tend to buy most of what I need for Amber on the internet from UK stores.  Coming across Dream Bag España was brilliant, not only were their sleeping bags very reasonably priced (prices starting from €29.99 or £25) they also delivered the bags for free.




Dreambag España currently has a January sale on.

Wikio

Guest Post - Slummy Single Mummy

Today I have a guest post from a fantastic blogger: Jo from Slummy Single Mummy.  Jo writes an eccletic mixture of posts covering parenting and world issues and even a post about Marmite!  I especially loved this one which explored different perpectives on pornography.  I hope you enjoy her offering, particularly as it runs along the same theme as my post last week.   




The void is not shoe shaped

I came across a picture today that I love.


It's called 'The void is not shoe shaped.'

Most of us will at some point experience that feeling of something missing, of a gap in our lives, that we try to fill. Some people fill it with work, some with religion, others with alcohol or drugs. I often try to fill mine with Jaffa Cakes, which I find to be a pretty effective short-term solution.


Longer term though, how many of us ever find the thing that fills that hole? 



Some of us might think we know what shape it is, and then we get the salary and the car and the shoes we wanted, and find it doesn’t fit after all. Try as we might, we can’t make it plug all the gaps. We stuff in around the edges with extra clothes and sweets and glasses of wine, but it doesn’t work. Things leak. Sometimes it’s a controllable drip, drip, drip. Other times a swirling torrent.


Or maybe that’s just me. Maybe you’ve found the thing that fills the shoe shaped void?


picture credit

Wikio

Is True Happiness Unachievable?

The New Year usually has me in a reflective mood and added with my recent coming of age I seem to be doubly so at the moment.  Whilst I have made all the usual New Year's resolutions that I will no doubt break before the month is out (lose weight, drink less, get fit, blah blah blah) I cannot shake the overwhelming feeling that I need to do more with my life.

My timing sucks, a new baby, a five year old with more extra-curricular activities you shake a stick at and working part-time from home hardly leave me time to tackle the housework, let alone go out and find and hopefully improve myself.

I often question if we, as a generation, are much harder to please? Were our parents in this constant pursuit of happiness, or did they just knuckle down and get on with things.  Why are our heads in the clouds, constantly dreaming of a better life; more money, great career, bigger house?  At what point do we say: "hey, let's take a step back and be bloody grateful for what we do have"?

I just read a post on the brilliant Bloggertropolis blog.  Steve admits that he and his wife are searching for something else, something to make them feel happier in their lives.  Steve mentions his job as being one of the main reasons for feeling unfulfilled in life.  I often look back at my old career, missing the independence, the money and the responsibility.  I conveniently forget the hours stuck in traffic, the impossible deadlines, extra hours worked without pay and moody colleagues though.  Can any job really give us the emotional success we strive for?  Surely even Hollywood movie stars want to throw a sickie every now and again.

Money seems to be on everyone's list as a way of achieving happiness.  OK, so life is much less stressful if you can pay all your bills on time and don't have to dig around in bargain bins, but is being rich in money the same as being rich in life?   We have become obsessed with obtaining things, just recently as a family we have amassed a lot of hi-tech goodies, a kindle, an iPad, a DS3D and an android phone a-piece, does it make me happier that I can now access Twitter from 5 different machines in my home?  For all the hundreds of hard earned euros spent, the Christmas present that has bought us the most fun and joy is the age-old game 'Guess Who'.

A new baby brings new perspective.  Suddenly everything becomes simple again.  I look down at the little girl in my arms as she smiles her beautiful gummy smile and goos and gaas at me. The overwhelming sense of love and, yes, happiness is like a kick in the stomach.  I've been looking at this all wrong; I don't need to do more with my life.  I actually need to do less, want less.  Just kick back and enjoy my young family.

More fun than an iPad

I'll still worry about how much money we have. I'll still want to move to a bigger house (preferably back in England) but really none of that really matters because there will never be enough money, the perfect house, the best job etc.  I don't think I'll ever be really satisfied with anything that can ultimately be bettered.  The grass will always be greener!

Wikio

Never mind the i-Pad, all I wanted from Santa was my i-Sight

Christmas 2011 will always be remembered for one thing - the Christmas I almost went blind.   The build up to my (hopefully) temporary impaired vision was slow; a cold which led to a watery eye, nothing unusual there my eyes always get effected by colds.  This time around though I had been on a mammoth cleaning session in preparation for the arrival of my Mum and t'in-laws.  With cleaning products such as bleach, oven cleaner and Cif (Jif for those of a certain age) on my hands, the constant rubbing of my eyes turn a mild irritation into two extremely blood shot and swollen eyes and the start of a week long conjunctivitus episode.  A lesson to be learned if ever there was one - no good ever comes of cleaning!

By the time my Mum had arrived I could barely open my eyes, the following day we welcomed t'in-laws and I looked like a cross between a lizard and a frog.  My eyes were continually streaming and all the skin around them dry and flaky.

Sadly, life doesn't tend to let you sit around licking your wounds nor does it allow you hours on end to apply cold compresses and rest, there was a school concert to attend.  I may have mentioned a few of the things I've done that probably make the locals thing I am a bocadillo short of a picnic and my wearing of sunglasses on a dismal December day—indoors—has undoubtedly strengthen this notion, or maybe they think I am a huge fan of that twat Bono!  In fact I got so paranoid about my wearing a pair of shades inside a darkened Casal waiting for the annual earplitting truama showcase of local dramatic and choral talent, that I kept periodically taking them off ensuring that a few of the locals got to see my offending eyes.  The rationale behind this being that I would encourage some conversations like this:

Did you see that crazy English woman wearing sunglasses at the concert, pretending she's some kind of rockstar

I did, but did you see her eyes? Terrible allergies. She's practically blind.

What like Stevie Wonder?

Sí


Ah, vale!

Those who were treated to this spectacle of gammy eyes gasped and asked me if I was suffering from allergies, usually whilst backing away and reaching for some antibacterial spray.  I decided to stop doing this when I noticed that a gaggle of 8 year old girls were staring at me, looking extremely terrified.

Never knowingly had conjunctivitis, just twat syndrome

Luckily (or not depending on your point of view), my eyes had improved enough by Christmas Day to cook the Christmas meal although my vision still hasn't returned to normal now, some 10 days later. My distance vision has everyone with 4 eyes and a moustache and anything further than about 4 foot away from me is slightly blurred.  It's like walking around on a permanent acid trip. Thankfully my near-sight is well enough for me to play with my new i-Pad.

Disclaimer:  any typos, grammatical and spelling mistakes are due to my condition, alright!

Wikio

Christmas Lost in Translation

or these Catalans have some funny ways at Christmas.

We regularly get letters sent home which I have to rely on Google Translate to decipher, mostly I get the jist even if the translation it offers up is a tad peculiar however, this latest offering has got me wondering....

The letter was  basically advising parents of the timings of the Christmas Carol service that the children are to perform in on the last day of school.  Included was this paragraph:

Enguany, com a novetat, i per a no perdre una tradició molt arrelada a les nostres terres, un caga tió de mesures mai vistes, visitarà el nostre poble.

Which Google translated to this:

This year, as a novelty, and not to lose a tradition deeply rooted in our land, a guy shits never seen action, visit our village.  

Eh?  What sort of weird traditions do these people celebrate?  Some dude, probably a virgin, shows up and takes a dump.  And this is their idea of novelty?  Good Lord, how will I explain this to my Mum and t'inlaws who will also be at the concert?

Reading further on in the letter, we are to deliver to the town hall, a small gift with our child's name on it which is to be handed out at the concert, I am assuming by the aforementioned bloke. 

Santa and the Three Kings have been seriously upstaged!

I say old chap, is that man having a shit?  What would Jesus think?

*Amendment - I have now got to the bottom (pun intended) of this.  The 'un caga tió' mentioned is actually a log that shits presents.  I kid you not...  

PS not sure why the log is Mexican.


Wikio