Tuesday, 31 August 2010

Five easy steps to peace and calmness

Is it just me, or do we all know at least one person who stands out as utterly, amazingly, wonderfully, almost inhumanly, calm and peaceful, at all times?

You know the one? The one person who is never fazed by life's petty ordeals- the person who is able to deal with larger problems with maturity, grace, and venerable wisdom?

They have an aura of calm and peace about them, regardless of whatever shit is going down?

What is it that they know, that everyone else seems to be missing out on?

Is it a learned skill, or a hardwired character trait?

(I badly want to be that person,  by the way.)






As some of you will know, I have three small children, close in age.

And as much as I adore them, I do lose my rag, my marbles and my temper with them, a lot.

So I am aspiring to be calmer, to have peace in my heart.

I have this little quote, in the form of a fridge magnet, in my face, every day:




BUT HOW?

1. Find a peaceful place, free of any distraction. Easier said than done, I know. Lock yourself in the toilet. Peg washing out? Breath. Deep breaths.

2. Stop, breathe, and acknowlege that you are in the thick of stress, and that you can change this. Breathe.

3. Have a huge glass of water. Breathe

4. What do you actually need? Pinpoint what could make you feel calm. Right now. I'll bet it is a cuddle. Get one. Breathe.

5. Fake it till you make it. If someone was watching you right now, and scoring you on your calmness, how would you be behaving? What would you be doing? Do that. Now.

And breathe.


Tell me, what do you do to instill calmness in your heart and home?

Monday, 30 August 2010

Pssst......




If you like reading birth stories as much as I do, then click on over to the gorgeous Good Golly Miss Holly's



Good Golly Miss Holly!

Home? Gym? Walk? Swim?

Megan over at Writing Out Loud recently posted about what exercise she does at home.

I'll be honest, I do belong to a "gym".

It is a small and dusty back room, down the hill, at our local footy club. The club has a hall, overlooking a very lovely oval. The hall is used for ping pong and scouts. And at the back, tacked onto the end of the hall,  is the "studio".



The studio contains an elliptical cross trainer thing, a stationary bike, a solitary treadmill, a few benches and a couple of sets of weights. There is a boxing bag hung from the roof, and a boom box in the corner. There is a weird looking rowing machine thingo too, which I am nervous about getting strapped into.

I do more at home or on the streets than I ever do in the "gym".

But the weekly connection with the "gym" (and the scales, should I ever chose to get on them again.) is good for me. I work harder when I have paid for it. I pay $10 a week to use the "gym". This gets me an hour on all the machines and the "luxury" of someone shouting at me to work a little bit harder, and to lift a little bit heavier.

$10 well spent, I would suggest? (Especially when I look at my lovely lady arms.........)

So when I tell you I am off to the gym, please do not envisage me lycra'd up, in some mirrored high tech health club?

Think of me doing anything active, because something is better than nothing, every single time.



Tell me, home? Gym? Walking? Swimming? How do you exercise?

Saturday, 28 August 2010

Some soul for your Saturday

I have had cause, this week, to reflect upon the births of all three of my children. (And you'll find out why, over the coming weeks........)

An artist that never fails to remind me, intensely, of my first birth, is Lisa Stansfield, an English pop and soul singer.

Her music has featured a lot in my world from way back when in the mid 1980's, to, well......... now.

I am still a fan.

This clip is glorious in it's "nineties-ness"

Enjoy.

Friday, 27 August 2010

Flowers For Friday

I spent yesterday with my Mother.

She has had an operation on her right eye to remove a dense cateract.

I took her to the shops, and she spotted pink hyacinths, and remarked how stunning they were.

I am just glad she could appreciate them: their sight as well as their smell.





So along with the wine, and the bread, I bought flowers for her. Constancy.

And, as it is Friday, it is also time to link up for Lori....click, read, comment, follow. Easy.

Thursday, 26 August 2010

Fat to Fit

It's Fat to Fit time again........




If you would like to join in my blog hop, I'd love for you to link up.

All you need to do is:


1.Follow my blog (if you haven't already done so).

2.Get the "Fat to Fit" button/code from below by copying the code and posting via the Edit HTML tab into your diet/weight loss post: if anyone wants any help with how to do this, lemme know?






3. Add the URL to your diet/weight loss/healthy eating/exercise/fitness post POST in the Linky below (not your homepage: the actual post)

4. Copy the blog hop code from below into your post too.....then you are also hosting the exact same blog hop link list...

5. Follow at least one other blogger.....share the love, and comment!

6. The blog hop list will open every Thursday and will be open all week.

7. A new and fresh link list will open every Thursday. (And then, if you want, you can link up again with another diet/weight loss/healthy eating/exercise/fitness post.)

Wednesday, 25 August 2010

The Little Engine That Could....

Most people have heard of the tale of the The Little Engine That Could?



We do not have a copy of the original, but the story, for anyone unfamiliar, goes something like this:
A little switch train engine lived and worked at a big railway yard, for doing all sorts of work, like pulling a train carriages on and off the tracks and railway switches.

One morning, the little switch train engine was waiting for her next call, when a big long train of freight carriages and trucks asked a very large engine in the railway shed to take to lead and pull it over the hill.

"I can’t, that is too much a pull for me," said the great engine.

Then the train asked another engine, and another, only to hear lots of excuses, and to be refused.

In desperation, the train asked the little switch train engine to draw it up the steep track, and down on the other side. Nervously, little switch train engine agreed.

"I think I can," puffed the little switch train engine, and put herself in front of the great heavy train. As she went on, the little switch train engine kept bravely puffing, faster and faster:

"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can."

As she neared the top of the very steep train track, which had so discouraged the larger engines, she went more slowly. However, she still kept saying, "I--think--I--can, I--think--I--can." , despite being tired, and finding the job really hard.

She reached the top, by drawing on inner strength and a positive attitude. And then she went on down the track, congratulating herself, by saying, "I thought I could, I thought I could."

I've had to draw upon a lot of the wisdom that the little engine employs.
 
I have only seven weeks to go before I enter The McLaren Vale Half Marathon
 
I am training for this distance every Sunday morning

And this Sunday just past, I did the full distance of 22km (14 miles)
 
I trained in a loop. Five loops of the same circuit. Five.
 
By the end of the third loop, I found I was struggling a lot a little.
 
All I could think of was that it was too hard, too far, and that I couldn't do it. Couldn't go the distance.
 
As I headed up a (steep) hill on Montacute Road, I managed to recall the story of the Little Engine That Could.  I have no idea where it came from. It is truly amazing - how the brain drags out exactly what we need, when we need it?
 
So, one foot in front of the other, I trundled on, and managed my longest distance ever.

All I could do was imagine, in my minds eye, how shit I would feel if I gave up. In comparison to how brilliant I would feel if I just kept going.
 
It was not easy. But it was nowhere near as hard as I thought it was going to be.
 
 
 
 
Because I shifted from "I don't think I can" to "I think I can, I know I can"
 
So don't let anyone tell you you can't. You can. If you think you can, you can; and you will.



I completed the half marathon. I raised a lot of money. Revisting this post has made me very happy to recall all that I did last year.

I am rewinding this post as a part of Multiple Mum's Weekend Rewind. And then there were four is one of my all time fave blogs. Go have a look?

Tuesday, 24 August 2010

I'm on a playdate........

..........guest posting, that is.





Over at Fat Mum Slim's

Having a girly time with Chantelle.

See you there?

Or if have you arrived here from Fat Mum Slim's, hello!

Welcome.

Stay a while? Have a read?

Monday, 23 August 2010

Point & Shoot: Guilty

Lexie had a Police Officer visit her kindy last week.

She was enamoured.

Policeman Chris is now her hero.

She tells me she wants to become a "police girl" when she grows up.

I aked her why:

"Then I can tell the bad peoples off. And if you don't hold your Mummy's hand to cross the road, you get in jail. And if you don't wear your helmet on your bike, you get in jail. So when I's is a police girl but I's is naughty, I can NOT take MYSELF to jail."

Guilty? Much? Ha!


If you would like to see more lovely point and shoot snaps, go here......

Sunday, 22 August 2010

The Highroad.....

Not much inpspiration from me today.

I am up early to go & do a 20km distance.

I am so tired from staying up all night watching the pundits and scrutineers cover the general election.

Hung parliament, for goodness sake.

And so whilst I will not turn this post into a ramble about how I feel about last nights result, I will make mention of the fact that the majority of my Sunday Citar quotes come from the great leaders and politicians.

And here is another -




Saturday, 21 August 2010

Pink

You may have heard me make mention of my Granny before.

She was an amazing woman, and my hero.

Peggy, I miss you every single day.



She and I would laugh, a lot, together. Like naughty school girls. Despite the fact that she was born in 1911, and I was born in 1969, we were so close. Like two peas in a pod. And we giggled, a lot, together.

One thing that made me chuckle throughout my childhood, and the memory of it makes me smile even now, was "pink meat".

It was a staple saturday night dinner at my Granny's house.

"What's for supper, Granny?"

"Pink meat, and good enough for you"

It is a staple dinner in our house now. Exactly the same.

Each and every time I dish it up, with its mashed potatoes and carrots & cabbage, my children call it "pink meat" too.

(I hope, really hope so much, Granny, that you look down upon us, and smile?)

Corned Silverside
1.5kg peice of corned silverside, rinsed
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 stick of clelery, chopped into big chunks
1 bayleaf
10 peppercorns
10 whole cloves
1 small onion, halved
1/2 cup vinegar

  • Slap the whole lot into a slow cooker/crock pot and cover with cold water

  • Cook on high for 6 hours or low for 8 hours

  • Remove the meat from the water. Rinse in hot water. Allow to rest for 30 mins, wrapped in foil before carving into slices.

  • Serve with steamed carrots, steamed cabbage, mashed potatoes and parsley sauce.
 Tell me, do you have old fashioned family favourite meals like this?
Share with me?

Friday, 20 August 2010

Flowers for Friday (Kind of......)

First of all, can I tell you that I am in my jammies, as I write this? And that I am going to STAY in my jammies ALL DAY today (or at least 'till school run at 3.30pm.)

I am not sick, but I am bloody sick of winter all of a sudden.

So the heating is on.
Slippers are on. 

Lovely husband has taken my eldest, Olivia, to school, which means Charlie and Lexie and me.....we get to sloth round in our jammies in a warm house all day and do nothing more demanding than play Play Dough, maybe blog a little, maybe watch some Charlie and Lola on TV, maybe make some chocolate brownies or some pikelets?



No flowers, as such, this week.

There were a lot of roses at the shops, but I declined. They were all yellow. I am not a fan of yellow roses. They mean "unrequited love" or something a bit depressing.

Yesterday I attempted to take some blossom sprigs from a tree in our garden. Lush pink plum blossom. A sign of beauty and longevity. The tree, from my window, looks potent, bursting with flower.

The sprigs from the tree, once cut, though, look.......erm......bare. Like twigs. Like boring damp sticks with intermittent bits of mean pink fluff.

I didn't even bother trying to take a photo. The sticks just went into the compost. Flowers for Friday fail..........sorry.

BUT!

I am blessed with a Linear Park, here in Adelaide, that runs from Black Hill (where we live) all the way to the sea, at Henley, via the city.

It is lined, in many segments, with ornamental cherry trees.

Which are in full bloom of blossom. A sign of innocence, spring and simplicity.

So I give you a scenic shot of cherry blossom instead. Remaining where it should be: on the trees........


Enjoy.

It's TGIF, so get flogging.....





rrsahm

Thursday, 19 August 2010

Winter Warmers - Barley Kernel Pudding, and Hats...

Two things to maintain a little winter warmth from me today.

I keep hearing that it is warming up in Sydney and Queensland. Not so in Adelaide, I fear. Freezing, still.

The lovely Maxabella has asked me for this recipe....

As kids, we would often be served this, by my Mother, who was no doubt trying to get some hearty & nutritious warmth into us.

(The amount of butter probably negates the nutrition these days. And certainly the volumes of jam we plopped on top did too. It is delicious never the less, with its sticky creaminess.......my children love it. A gorgeous sweet casserole!)

Barley Kernel Pudding (Serves 8)

100g barley
1200ml milk
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
50g brown sugar
100g butter

Flaked almonds
Jam or golden syrup to serve

  • Combine all ingredients apart from the almonds in a pan to melt the butter and dissolve the sugar
  • Add the barley, simmer for 20 mins, stirring regularly. It takes ages for all the milk to get absorbed.
  • Pour into in a buttered casserole dish
  • Sprinkle with flaked almonds, then bake for 20 mins, at 180`c, until toasted and brown on top
  • Serve with dollops of jam or syrup

 
And, if that is not warming enough for you, maybe a cosy beanie?

A soft hat that is a cross between a knitted cap and a beret? In a gorgeous chocolate brown? I love it. I am warmer with it on that I have ever been before.



Of course, it comes, again, from the lovely Thea of Do I Really Wanna Blog fame, who, as I have mentioned before, makes these gorgeous hand sewn items to order, via her online shop Sew Thea

Tell me, when winter feels like it has been going on forever, what are YOUR best winter warmers?

Wednesday, 18 August 2010

Fat to Fit Blog Hop

It's Fat to Fit time again........








If you would like to join in my blog hop, I'd love for you to link up.

All you need to do is:


1.Follow my blog (if you haven't already done so).

2.Get the "Fat to Fit" button/code from below by copying the code and posting via the Edit HTML tab into your diet/weight loss post: if anyone wants any help with how to do this, lemme know?










3. Add the URL to your diet/weight loss/healthy eating/exercise/fitness post POST in the Linky below (not your homepage: the actual post)

4. Copy the blog hop code from below into your post too.....then you are also hosting the exact same blog hop link list...

5. Follow at least one other blogger.....share the love, and comment!

6. The blog hop list will open every Thursday and will be open all week.

7. A new and fresh link list will open every Thursday. (And then, if you want, you can link up again with another diet/weight loss/healthy eating/exercise/fitness post.)

The Miracle Cure......

What if there was a miracle cure, that if you took it each day would give you a less chance of getting breast cancer, and less chance of getting heart disease, and a less chance of diabetes, and could ward off osteoporosis and hypertension?




And not only that,  it would help you live longer and be a whole lot healthier into your old age.

And there are no bad side affects at all! Only good ones - better skin, a greater alertness, a general sense of well being.

Plus, it helps you lose weight!

Bring it on!

How much would you pay for it?

And here's the thing - this cure is available, right now.

And it's free.

Any pretty anyone can get it.

The miracle cure?

Walking.



That's it. That's all.

No drugs. Just walking.

 Here's the simple deal -

Walk for a total of 7 hours a week.

(That's an hour a day. That's all.)

At a decent pace (about 6.5km or 4 miles per hour.)

(Please note, that this pace is not hard, at all. Even at 125kg heavy, I could manage this pace.)
So if you want to do something simple, JUST WALK.

It's that simple.

Get a friend or an iPod, and walk, an hour a day.

Stroller if you have little kids.

If you are going to tell me you can't find an hour a day - you can, I promise.For me, I just schedule it in, around school pick ups and drop offs and pick ups, around early mornings or early kid bedtimes. Just find an hour. Get up early?

Most days, I just walk.

And if you are feeling crappy, about anything, anything at all, in your world, in your heart, or in your mind, walking fixes that too.

Feeling sad? Lost? Insecure? Pride taken a beating? Feeling lonely or left out? Overlooked or taken for granted?

I promise, walking can fix those awful feelings.

Just walk.

Walking truly is a miracle cure. I am glad I do it.

If you know any other such simple miracle cures, let me know?

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

Who knew downsizing could mean upsizing?

Hi everyone, Allison from Life In a Pink Fibro here. Lucy has graciously invited me over to visit, and I'm thrilled to leave my own four walls and swing by for a guest post...

One thing you don’t expect when you move to a country town is that you’re going to exercise less. Fresh air, check. Wide open spaces, check. Quieter roads for cycling, check. Beach up the road, check. It’s all here and I’m not using it. In my defense, it is winter – beach action tends to ramp up around the end of October. But the rest of it?

I have only one explanation. The pram. I never thought I’d say this. I can’t imagine any mum in the world imagining the day would come when she’d say this. But. I miss the pram.





When Mr6 was born, we lived in an inner-city Sydney suburb where it was too painful to drive. If you moved the car, you’d never get another car park. If you drove the car elsewhere, you’d never find a car park when you got there anyway. So if my destination was within, say, a 45-minute walk, then I’d walk. I’d time it with a sleep, slot him in with a cosy wrap and, later, a drink, a snack and a book to ‘read’ and off we’d go. I walked for miles. Weight loss after baby number one, not a problem.


When Mr3 came along, we were still in the same house and I just bought myself a Phil & Ted pram, put Mr6 (then three) in economy and Mr3 (then 0) in first-class and off we’d go. Later, I swapped them over, with Mr6 (then three) loving the front row and Mr3 (then six months or so) unable to speak to tell me any different.

This arrangement worked well for us for nearly two years. Weight loss after baby number two, not as effective (harder to time the sleeps together) but still not bad.

Eighteen months ago, we moved to the Pink Fibro, on the south coast of NSW. We live about a kilometre from town and 1.5km from the school. Last year, when we had one car and Mr3 was still small enough to push and happy enough to be pushed, we walked Mr6 to school every day, and back – nearly 6km a day for me and Mr6 on his scooter.


But things have changed. Mr3 is getting too big and heavy to push. Besides, he wants to walk. Unfortunately, he’s not up for the round trip to school. And now we have two cars. So I walk less and less. I have to go out of my way to fit in a ‘walk’, which is new territory for me. I’ve always been a person who likes to incorporate exercise into my life. Fitting it in feels like extra work.

The other downside is that when I get into town and find myself at the supermarket ‘picking up a few things’, I have to carry them home. All five bags. With no handy pram. I’m at the stage where I’m considering joining my 86-year-old neighbour in the purchase of a new shopping ‘trolley’ to drag it all home.

That’s the thing with a pram. You don’t realise how useful they truly are until they’re gone.
And you’re walking at pre-schooler pace.

Weight gain after move to the country: becoming a problem.

Anyone out there got any solutions?

Monday, 16 August 2010

Things to do.......

I have been a list type of person since I was a little girl. Lists makes me feel safe and in control.
I have a To Do Book.

It is like a compressed gantt chart.
I live my life through critical path analysis.
Throughout uni and my forays into the working world, I became a  creator of lists, checklists, and "to do's".

At uni I had studied a methodology called Critical Path Analysis, which, without boring the bits off you, is a project management tool that helps you to plan all tasks that must be completed, and in what order.




Can I tell you that it is so ingrained in me, that I automatically use this method for my life?

That my "things to do lists" are actually spiral bound notebooks. I have one on the go all the bloody time.

And I keep all of the old ones.





I am not sure why.

Occasionally, if I need to recall phone numbers or details of a task from a long time ago, I go trawling in these old notebooks.

I have them going back to 1998, when we bought our first house.

And it's when I read these old books that I notice that these "to do lists" catalogue our life and how far lovely husband and I have come, as a couple.

The lists, and the dependencies of tasks upon each other, read like a treasure map of what we want our life to be. These lists contain the banal, like "pick up dry cleaning" but also the exciting, like "talk to Andrew about moving to Adelaide?"

The items that get added to my to do list books are limitless. Limitless dreams.

My dreams get entered in, right alongside the chores.

My things to do list is often, then, I suppose, my wish list.

Some of the things that get added are things that I never ever imagined that we would be able to achieve. But I slapped them on in anyway.

But the exciting thing is, my "to do list wish list" items somehow always come to fruition.

It excites me to read over those old lists, look at the old charts, with arrows and dependencies, to see how, if I want something, I can make it happen. A new kitchen? A new job? A relocation?



They all happen. Maybe not immediately, but eventually.

New windows in the laundry? A family? A surprise party for a friend? A wedding? It all happens, eventually.

Not just because it gets written in the "things to do book".....nothing as magical as that, sadly.

But if it goes in the things to do book, that in itself prompts me to work towards it. It becomes a goal. Little things then get done towards the end game. Mammoth life projects get broken down into little tasks. That get done. That just get done.

So whilst my project management tendencies do shit me at times, maybe I am really grateful, really, for this critical path analysis mentality, that helps me, every single day:
 
If we want this, what do we need to do to achieve it? How can I break it down to make it easy?
 
Things to do: these tasks help me work towards what I want
our life to look like......




Saturday, 14 August 2010

Sorry, I'm late.

I am late.

I have been stretched, these past few days.

My usual flowers for Friday post .......it got forgot.

Until now.

I managed to get myself some flowers yesterday, just.

Amazingly, roses.

I know the time for pruning roses is now, but I am unsure if roses are truly in season? I guess they must be in season somewhere - I found stunning roses, fairly cheaply, everywhere.

I shopped in North Adelaide this Friday. It is ritzier than my usual hang outs. The fancier (and too expensive) florist in Tynte Street beckoned me, but the marked down bunches of pink roses from the supermarket were too much of a bargain to pass up.

Friday, 13 August 2010

Charlie's Scarf

You may have read last week how Lexie was modelling one the gorgeous scarfs from Sew Thea.

Not to be outdone, my son Charlie soon started nagging me incessantly for one for himself.

"Mummy, your friend Fea? The one with the pretty crown? The one that does the knitting wiv needles? Can Fea make me a scarf for my neck too? Please?"

So in the blink of a Tweet, Fea Thea was quickly commissioned, and within a day she had listed a whole range of gorgeous blue and boyish scarfs for Charlie to choose from, on her Sew Thea Made It shop.

Charlie chose, grinning from ear to ear and it arrived yesterday.

He loves it. I love it.

I love that Thea made it so fast, for him.

And so to model another one of Thea's creations, I give you Charlie.



(Thea tells me she is making hats too, as well as planning aprons for summer stock..........I cannot wait!)

Thursday, 12 August 2010

Fat To Fit

It's Fat to Fit time again........




If you would like to join in my blog hop, please read the following -

The rules are:

1.Follow my blog (if you haven't already done so).


2.Get the "Fat to Fit" button/code from below by copying the code and posting via the Edit HTML tab into your diet/weight loss post: if anyone wants any help with how to do this, lemme know?






3. Add the URL to your diet/weight loss/healthy eating/exercise/fitness post POST in the Linky below (not your homepage: the actual post)

4. Copy the blog hop code from below into your post too.....then you are also hosting the exact same blog hop link list...

5. Follow at least one other blogger.....share the love, and comment!

6. The blog hop list will open every Thursday and will be open all week.

7. A new and fresh link list will open every Thursday. (And then, if you want, you can link up again with another diet/weight loss/healthy eating/exercise/fitness post.)

Wednesday, 11 August 2010

Village life...

I come from a village life, in England.

My siblings still live in quaint villages there, still.

I am teased (criticised?) a fair bit for my addiction to social networking interaction - by family, and by others (other, "busier" folk.)

But I am a girl who sees the utter positivity in the "My kids are driving me bloody mental" type status and blog posts and tweets that I read.

The friends I've made, across forums, the bloggershere and the twitterverse - are mostly mothers, of one, two, three, or more children. They have it tough. I know they do.  Being a Mum - it may not be "hard", as such, but far out, it can be undeniably boring, at times.

And so, to those who chose to get their frustrations off their chest via their status updates  - myself included - good. Go for it.

If that allows the frustration (and, dare I say it, the resentments?) to pass, then that is a positive thing, I reckon.

Is this any different to eras past?



My Grandmother, here in Australia, raised her children in Adelaide during the war in the 1940's - and she lived the equivalent of a village life.

She too shared with all the women in her area. The streets around her home in a small inner suburb - all of the families knew one another. Skills and children were shared. Until the day she died, my grandmothers' closest friends were those that she had shared her mothering with, indeed, shared life her whole adult life with.

My Mother lived in villages across the south coast of England, with five children, in the 1970's. Village life, where women shared, all the time. Shared recipes, shared meals, shared children, and the care of the children. Shared the work, shared the support. Shared the frustrations and resentments, as well as their pride and joy.



These days, I am lucky to live in a part of Adelaide that closely resembles a village. At our local shops, the children and I are all known by name.

We have friends, close friends, who live just a few houses away.

We have village amenities like a local church, a local pub and a duck pond.

And the sharing of skills, and support?

Yes.

This year, I am committed to making the habit of ensuring that my strengths get shared with other friends with the same frustrations and difficulties and time restraints.

Car pooling for school runs? Yes

Can I set you up a website whilst you create me scented candles? Yes.

If I bulk cook casserole one week and share, I can then enjoy your shared lasagne? Yes? Soup for fruitcake? Yes.

Come for a play date and make playdough with your children and mine, whilst I get on and iron? Yes

We'll come to you, and you can fold washing and garden, whilst I play dress ups with your children? Yes

Can I take your girls to ballet with mine, whilst you take my son with yours to Milo Cricket? Yes

Six children for the morning whilst you get a pap smear done? Yes. (Mine is booked in for next month - I know the deal is reciprocal.)

And in full circle, I know that I can share and genuinely support via all of the online methods I love.

Share the hard bits.

Share the skills.


Share the frustrations along with the love.


Share the essence of each other in these friendships we make.


Online or in real life. Be a village.

It also takes a village, I believe, to keep a mother sane.





Tuesday, 10 August 2010

Choose your hard....



Life can be hard. Food in invariably easy. Too easy.

Losing weight is hard.

Junk food, and that sensation that makes you feel "ick" is hard.

Feeling unfit is hard. Being unfit is very hard.

Feeling like every single day is filled with lethargy is hard. Feeling hopeless is hard.

Feeling insecure, feeling defined by a fat body: that is hard.

Feeling guilty, that is hard.

Never being able to pick nice clothes, that's hard.

Feeling shame and disgust - that is hard.

Choose your hard.




Eating is easy. But eating healthily is easy too - usually even easier than junk.

Being fat is hard. Losing weight is hard. Choose your hard....

Getting out of bed at 5am every morning to walk or jog or run intervals is hard. Not feeling like you can get out of bed because you are stiff and overweight is hard. Choose your hard.

Life is hard. Addiction is hard. Grief is hard. Dieting is hard. Losing weight is hard. Exercise is hard. Joint pain is hard.

Choose your hard.