Octomum's 'reality'...truth or spin?

I'm feeling a bit shouty today. Yesterday, I spent nearly eight hours in the emergency room with little Miss Sophia who was wheezing and coughing and generally not doing so well with the whole breathing thing. We knew that this was going to be situation normal for her as soon as winter hit given her dodgy premmie lungs - still, not fun.

So, the news that OctoMum has just signed on to star in her own new reality show irked me more than a little. As background, the plan is that "several events in the children's lives would be filmed in a documentary series. One of the events in the children's lives might be their first birthday.”

Why am I annoyed? Because this woman has eight premature babies (and six other children) at home and I will bet any money that the 'reality' of life in that situation is never allowed on our screens.

Life with a premmie is bloody hard work - I can't even imagine what life with eight must be like. When Sophia came home from hospital we had to give her five separate medications every day for four months just to keep her lungs working at acceptable levels. We still have to think twice about whether it's smart to take her certain places in case she picks up a bug, because a sniffle for a 'normal' kid could mean pneumonia for her.

But I'm sure that this 'reality series' will show none of that. Instead, it will undoubtedly be all sunshine and lollipops; the eight kids dressed in cutesy matching outfits and Octomum playing WonderMother as she swans around a spotless house effortlessly tending to her nanny-free flock. All intended to show the world that she wasn't crazy to do what she did.

If she had any integrity at all, she'd show life with 14 kids under eight years' old. Show the help she needs to cope with them. Show the mess, the chaos, the sheer relentlessness of motherhood, and the hard work involved in getting eight prems through their first year.

Now, that's a show I'd watch. Anything less is just spin.

Fashion Smashion: All Sorts of Wrongness

I can understand why people find a style that suits them and stick to it, by wearing a host of similar clothes. What I don't get is why Mariah think that principle applies to her.

Perhaps Michelle Monaghan figures if she can't win an Oscar, she may as well dress like one.

And, well, we all know Paula Abdul is barking mad. And that's the only excuse for this dress.

Lemon Lamb Shanks in paper

Finding warming winter recipes that are relatively low in fat isn't as hard as you might think. Last night, I made these fab Lemon Lamb Shanks in Paper and served them with some fluffy couscous, low fat garlic yoghurt and greens.

They're packed full of flavour and are pretty much guilt free (and there's no mess!) Perfect for a cold Autumn (nearly winter...ugh) night...

what you need
4 large lamb shanks, trimmed
1 large lemon, cut into 8 slices
8 garlic cloves
dried oregano
baking paper
kitchen string

what to do

1. Preheat the oven to 140C. On the kitchen bench, lie two long sheets of baking paper, forming a cross.
2. Season a shank well with the salt and pepper and lie it on the paper. Sprinkle dried oregano over and cover with two slices of lemon. Add two garlic cloves.
3. Wrap up the parcel and tie with kitchen string, using a knot that's easy to undo. Repeat with the other shanks.
4. Place the parcels in a baking tray and bake for three hours.
5. Serve as per suggestion above or with smashed potatoes and a classic greek salad.

Tip: Making garlic yoghurt is as simple as crushing a clove in a small tub and mixing well. Add salt to taste and you're done!

When I grow up...

I love words. From the time I was old enough to leaf through the pages of a book myself I’ve been a voracious reader.

I get a butterfly feeling in my stomach whenever I enter a library or bookstore, surrounded by so many books, so many new adventures. I love the anticipation of cracking open the cover for the first time; the feel of the paper on my fingertips; the smell of the ink.

When I was a little girl I wanted to write, and I did. Stories, poems, you name it; I wrote it. I had my first poem, Breaking Up, written about the end of a friendship, published when I was 10. On reflection, I was pretty deep for a tween.

When I was 11, I saw a gap in the market and became the sole writer and editor of my primary school class magazine, which I called Wombat. This generated copycat publications called, rather unoriginally, Koala and Goanna.

By the time I went to high school, I knew writing was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life...and I'm lucky enough to have achieved that dream. Although my job these days is much more about managing people and projects, words remain at the core of everything I do.

Since I started this blog I’ve rediscovered writing for the sheer pleasure of it. Not because someone needs a brochure, or a strategy, or a script – but because I want to. And I’m pretty sure I’ll always feel that way.

I wrote this post as part of a Blogged challenge...this week, we were asked to share what we dreamed of becoming as a small child. If you have a blog and would love to join in some weekly fun, check it out! The next challenge starts tomorrow!

Manscaping advice from Gillette

You may have seen the Wilkinson Sword Mow the Lawn ad, featuring a bunch of glamorous girls getting busy mowing their lawns and trimming their bushes in a very thinly veiled visual metaphor for sorting out the bikini line!

Well, now it's the boys' turn. Apparently, trimming the bush makes the tree look taller...who knew?

Our first 'stylish' review

We're published! Our first review for Baby's/Kid's Got Style hit email inboxes around the world yesterday, and little Miss Sophia was there in all her stripey glory!

I've been writing up a storm for them, having done three reviews in as many weeks, with another due any day. I'm crossing my fingers that this little number is in the next package (and I really wish it came in adult sizes!)

Fashion Smashion: Fugalicious

Fergie needs a new tailor. Or more booty. Or just some taste.