For the Love of Bloggers

As you guys know we’re going through it over here and

Image by JD | Photography via Flickr

that’s why I haven’t been posting (Sat & Sun’s post only got up because they’d been scheduled). LeBella is still not well and it’s taking all my energy during the day to keep her from falling apart and I’m exhausted now but the lovely Crystal Domestic, But Not Martha had a wonderful idea and I wanted to help spread the love:

Bloggers who want/need some love!

Something that REALLY bothers me is kind, loving, BIG HEARTED bloggers who have really low followers. Now, that being said, though it’s not about the numbers, follower amounts are awesome if high but if they’re low, can crush a blog writer’s spirit before the blog has really developed into their dream or mission for it. I am grateful for EVERY SINGLE blog follower (and FB & Twitter!) that I have and you guys make my life RAD! Please consider stopping by these loveys and saying hi! If you want, follow them and Pay It Forward. I added a link list at the bottom and would LOVE if you’d link up & do a similar blog love list on your blog! The blogging community is one of connecting, uplifting, and bringing joy to one another. Let’s share that! If you want, also follow them on FB, Twitter, etc!

Bloggers who want some love:

Cathy’s Voice

Brilliant Bundles

The Busy Bullocks
aPearantly sew

Darleen & Greg

This Mommyhood
Mojo Mama

On the rocks & straight up

Monica Wants It

The Good, The Bad, & The Family

The House of Huff

Dances with Chaos

The Lungos
Transplanted Thoughts

Things That Make You Say Mom

Organized Chaos

Charmingly Chandler
Shanamama
Last Train to Pooksville
The Colie’s Chronicles
Rags to Stitches
Art & Soul
Symmetric Mom
Mummy Brain
Scampified
Bluebird
My Creative Path
Domestic, But Not Martha
Dana Sears Fam
Designs by Dana Sears
Lia’s Kibbies
Gray Baby Productions
My Twisted Tree
So Cute It Hurts
Sweet Eventide Photography
Creative Outpour

Writer’s Workshop: Social Media Butterfly

Happy Thursdays, Lovelies! I feel like I’ve had a fab bloggy week (especially since IRL has been a little icky). I hope this is the start of a trend! I feel better after a I write! Before I jump into today’s post I just want to thank Big Daddy Autismfor guesting posting with us yesterday! So, it’s Thursday so that means……

Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop

<a href="http://www.mamakatslosinit.com"target="_blank"
So the other day Mama Kat and I were sitting around drinking wine organic green tea and discussing her fab new look. “It’s important to grow in social media otherwise you’ll get stale and then Ellen will never write you back.” She was bleary eyed and her words slurred  just a little but I could hear the seriousliness of her voice. Then she turned to me and inquired “How has social media changed you, Mommylebron?” My star-struck heart did a little flip flop because she remember my name and then my fermented berry soak brain tried to pull together a Poodle worthy response.

>Hiccup<

*Ahem.*

 

When I started exploring social media on Myspace (shut up) I was a caterpillar (without the grossness and eating of leaves). I posted stuff (read:crap) on a semi-regular basis and uploaded eleventy billion pictures. I befriend all my family, close friends and people I knew from school whether I liked them or not.

Then I discovered Facebook. I felt more comfortable there. It was my own little cocoon where I was actually interacting with all my family, close friends, and people I knew from school whether I liked them or not.

And then?

I discovered The Twitter. Here I connected with not family. Not close friends. Not people I knew from school whether I liked them or not.

I connected with random people from all over the world who shared my interests, my passions, but not always my opinions (and that’s ok!). I have met so many amazing people on Twitter that I won’t list them here for fear of forgetting someone in all their awesomeness. After some time on Twitter, I was tempted into a new hobby. Blogging.

I’ve spent a good deal of my life feeling invisible. The wallflower. Often overlooked and forgotten. Suddenly I had somewhere to put my words, my thoughts, my self. And people notice me! They respond and connect with me! I suddenly feel less socially inept.

I feel like I’m building friendships and (dare I say it?) affecting lives. With my words. The words that have swam around my head for 31ish years. I gift them to you and you receive them graciously.

And suddenly?

 

Stream of Conscious: Guilt

I know, I know! A second post? I almost never do that! But the truth is, I coerced Fadra to follow me back on Twitter weeks ago with a promise to participate in her linky, which I really do love. I actually thought of it as I was study my psychology book and the phrase “stream of consciousness” came up. Then I was all, oh crap! So here I am!
The truth is, this happens to me more than I’d like to admit. I commit to a lot of things. And I want to do them all. I also want to do them well.
I am currently homeschooling my daughter and it has taken a turn towards unschooling, really. And for that I have been feeling so guilty. And then? She took some testing at the school this week. After 3 months at home with me she had the highest scores in her class!
I love this blog. I aim for posting every day. But I don’t want to just throw crap on the screen. So some days I don’t post. Then I feel guilty, like I’ve let you down and you won’t love me anymore. But then I come back and post and? There you are with your sweet comments and twitter love. Huh.
And that book I’m writing? It’s slow going because I don’t always have time. And then I feel guilty. But after I sit down and write or edit for a while. I feel wonderful becasue I remember it is my story and it’s not going to disappear. It already lives in its own special spot of my consciousness like a really awesome supernatural memory. Or something like that.
And school? I have guilt because I sometimes have to choose priorities. Like this week I’ll need to cut out of class to take LeBella to the drs. But then I get an email from my instructor saying he understands. No worries. But homework is still due on time.
Times Up.

***

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post below.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

A Second Serving Repost from Gucci Mama

So, I had a witty **Disclaimer** ready to go but then I started thinking how the need for a **Disclaimer** is pretty much indicative in and of itself. I mean, as soon as you see **Disclaimer** at the top you must assume the possibility of f-bombs and what not. So rather then warn you away I will simply state: You are entering Gucci Territory.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

I’m going to tell you something because I love you and I trust you.  So don’t laugh at me and don’t go telling every fucking person you know.

I?

Sleep with a night light, but I don’t call it that.  I call it Princess Glow.  I just think that sounds nicer.

There, I said it.

But people stay alive because I sleep with Princess Glow.  It’s safer for everyone.  You might mock the Princess Glow, but I’m willing to bet that you’ve never found your own reflection staring down the barrel of Little Gucci while you command it to “freeze”.

I should back up a little, maybe.

I was pregnant with my first Mini Gucci and home alone.  At night.  In the dark.  And, in some kind of masochistic effort to scare myself clean out of my Gucci’s, I watched that ridiculous show “I Survived” which just chronicles people’s brushes with death that they were somehow able to escape.  Barely.  I know for a fact that I would not be so lucky.  If some toothless meth head deviant broke into my house to steal my virtue and my TV, I’m quite sure I’d be quick to die.  And then my idiot family would choose the assiest, ugliest, fattest picture of me they could find to plaster all the fuck over the news.  And then no one would even feel sorry for me that I was violated and brutally murdered because my picture would be so horrifying.  Because really?  What’s one less ugly person in the world?

Anyway.

All that to say that I own several firearms, one of which is my pink .45.  I’ve named her Little Gucci.  She’s a doll.  I love her.  I won’t tell you where she lives in my house because a.) I don’t want any of you freedom hating liberals yipping falsified studies at me that trick people into thinking guns in the home are more dangerous than intruders and b.) If you break into my house I don’t want you to get to Little Gucci before I do.  But she’s close to me at all times.  No, freedom hating liberals and helicopter moms, there’s no way my children can possibly get to her and they don’t know she exists.  Yet.  They’ll meet her when they’re older.

But I stray from my point.

On this particular night, all hopped up on hormones and bored on bed rest after watching a marathon of “I Survived”, I decided to call it a night.  I locked my doors, turned off my lights, and settled down into mock sleep.  I say “mock” because I was eleven thousand weeks pregnant and there’s no such damn thing as sleep when there’s an alien creature in your belly.

And then I heard the noise.  It was kind of a thump.  Maybe a shuffle.  It was clearly a toothless meth head coming to steal my virtue and my TV.  So, like any smoking hot conservative chick with a weapon and an attitude, I grabbed Little Gucci and got up to investigate.  While humming the theme from “Mission Impossible” to myself, I quietly crept down the hallway with Little Gucci at the ready.

I cleared the hallway, the linen closet, the stairwell, kitchen, and garage.  I didn’t go downstairs because downstairs at night is fucking scary.  That left the bathroom.  I opened the door slowly and peered around the corner.

Fuck me!  There was the meth head.  All I could see was a dark, shadowy figure with who was kind of round and had really long hair.  He looked to be pointing something at me.  Something that looked suspiciously like a gun.


FREEZE, MOTHERFUCKER.  THERE WILL BE NO TV OR VIRTUE FOR YOU!

No response.

My heart was trying to beat its way right out of my chest and my mouth was dry but my hands were steady.  I am not one of those women who finds being strangled to death with her own pantyhose morally superior to shooting the fuck out of a rapist.

I SAID FREEZE.  ER, WAIT!  GET THE FUCK ON THE GROUND, ASSHOLE!


Still nothing.

My fear was melting away to be replaced by pretty significant pissiness that this asshole wouldn’t do as he was told.  Did he not see that I was a pregnant lady with a gun?  Would you fuck with an armed pregnant lady?

I decided to turn on the light so he could see Little Gucci was real, sure that she would make him quake in fear.  When I saw the “intruder” I was slightly, um, mortified.  The round meth head with really long hair bent on taking my virtue and my TV was, um, well…

You know.  Me.  In the mirror.

I don’t watch television anymore.

–
Gucci Mama
www.mamastillwearsgucci.com

Coconut Bread Recipe

Okay, ladies. I know you were totally stalking my yummy tweets the other day and I promised a couple recipes. I have decided to keep you on the edge of your seats, however. I will be posting these yummilicious recipes one at a time. You know, it’s like job security. For reals? I want the recipes to be easy for me to find in the future.

Nutty Coconut Bread

 

Ingredients:

 

1 1/8 cups of warm water

3 cups Pillsbury All Purpose Flour

1 ½ tsp. Iodized salt

1 ½ Tbsp. butter

2 Tbsp. Cream of Coconut

½ Cup Shredded Coconut

¼ cup chopped Pecans

¼ cup chopped Walnuts

2 tsp. Fast Rise Yeast

 

1. Pour the water into the mixing bowl and sprinkle the yeast over the top, leave for 10 minutes (Unload the dishwasher or go flip the laundry.)
2. Add the salt, Cream of Coconut, Shredded Coconut, Pecans, and Walnuts then mix well.
3. Add flour, one cup at a time mixing as you go.
4. Add butter (in pieces) while mixing.
5. Remove mixer, cover bowl with a cloth and let rise for 45 minutes. (fold a load of laundry and put it away and sneak in a few chapters of the awesome book I know your reading.)
6. Punch dough down and gently knead for a few minutes. Cover and let rise 45 minutes (again). Grease your bread pan in your preferred manner (I use oil). (Time to flip the laundry again. Put away another load and go pick up the kids room/playroom.)
7. Remove dough from bowl and place on smooth, floured surface. Knead gently for a few minutes before shaping into a loaf and placing in bread pan. Cover and let rise (45 minutes). (Ding! Stupid laundry…flip, fold, put away. Maybe sweep and/or vacuum?)
8. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Uncover bread pan and place in the oven for 30 minutes. And Wa-la!

 

 

 

 

 

*I have never shared a recipe of my own before and I totally made this up, however, my bread came out perfect. So, if yours doesn’t turn out right? Totally not my fault…

Related Articles

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• Sweet Whole Wheat Bread (thehappyhousewife.com)
• Pecan and treacle bread recipe by Phil Vickery (telegraph.co.uk)