We went to our friends wedding on Saturday, beachside, outdoor venue. It was a lovely day, as one would hope and I rained tears as they said their vows, I can't explain it, let's just say I find meaningful words spoken publicly quite emotional.
I looked fine (note the fine - not yet 'great', 'fantastic' or even "I felt great!' - that's what we're eventually after), a light spray tan, tummy sucker knickers and some bronzer so I fit in perfectly.
As locals we were advised not to bring our children - that there would be kids there but it was preferable if we could just bring ourselves. It was a pain to organise childcare - my initial babysitter fell through, friends who owe us a favour couldn't do it, regular daycare lady had something else on....24 hours before the wedding we were recommended a lovely lady who worked in a childcare centre, spoke to said lady the morning of said wedding and met her 10 minutes before we left her to responsibly care for our children.
We were out for almost 8 hours from about 3.30pm, she charged....wait for it.....if you're in your 30's and used to babysit for neighbours you are about to get freaked out....$20 per hour. Ouch. We got home all wedding merry and happily placed $150 in her palm, impressed by the clean floor, kitchen and of course sleeping children in the bedrooms. It must also be noted that when we left at 3.30 the kids barely looked up from the floor where they were sat with babysitter blowing bubbles and told by Mr 6 the next day 'she was good'. High praise.
I had spoken to a lady at the wedding who said her babysitter charged her $20 for the first 3 hours then $12 per hour after that. Reasonable.
So the moral of todays blog is do not be afraid to pay that little bit extra when wanting an evening out and your children to be well cared for. But also do not be afraid to negotiate on a sum of money before you leave. We probably would have spent the same amount if we had of gone out for dinner, but I tell you, 20 years ago I charged about $5 per hour, if that. Bloody hell.
In other news I have lost the grand total of 2kg in 4 weeks, which certainly is a sustainable loss but also a bloody slow one! Feeling fit, but as usual a bit anxious and overthinky. Did I just coin a new phrase? Feeling a bit overthinky. Planning on paying close attention to my (wo)menstrual cycle this month to see how much of it is hormone related.
Always feels better to blog it out :)
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
Day 13
Just a quick update on the 12 Week Endevour. Actually that would make a great name for it! It doesn't seem to have an actual name, just an annoying computer program you have to labour over every evening entering details of the food & drink you consumed that day and a weekly meeting where our spritely leaders talk us through 'emotional eating' and 'unhelpful thinking' and then joyfully weigh us in the hope that there is a little bit less of us.
Labour intensive as it is, I've found entering the details of my daily dietary intake into the program to be both interesting and positive. It turns out I have been overeating for much of my life!? When I told my younger brother this he dryly replied with a 'Really? Your really just figuring this out?', not in a mean way but in a 'What the fuck else did you think was going on? Thyroid? Heavy genes?'
So here is the plain truth. My name is Clare and I'm an overeater. I eat when I'm sad, I eat when I'm happy. I eat when I'm bored, busy, just in case and when I see the clock hands hit a particular time. I hate to be hungry, it panics me, worries me, makes me feel....empty.
It would appear that I've been attempting to fill that emptiness, that hole, that void, over the years with 1) Food, 2) Alcohol and 3) Smoke. Since I quit smoking in January I have gained close to 8 kilo, this is despite training for and running the 12.7km City to Surf in June. Committed.
So I'm realising all this because this past 13 days so often I have felt the urge to eat...but instead of indulging that urge I stop and have a think about my hunger. Turns out I'm hungry for a lot of things not just food. I'm hungry for a maid, who could do the cleaning that needs to be done around the home that I delay doing by....stopping for something to eat. I'm hungry for a nanny, to assist me in the raising of 2 wonderful children who I too often bribe, distract or shut up with food. I'm hungry for love and acknowledgement, from myself, from my family, that I reward myself with food for that quick fix.
Holy dooley talk about breakthroughs. The first week was difficult, I felt hungry (duh), uncomfortable and frustrated. This past week has been better, more energy, more awareness and....
I weighed in last night at the end of a long day and I had lost 1.4 kilo in 12 days. I am loving myself sick. This is exactly what I was hoping for. Got a new goal in my sights and it's totally achievable...Go Team Biz!
Labour intensive as it is, I've found entering the details of my daily dietary intake into the program to be both interesting and positive. It turns out I have been overeating for much of my life!? When I told my younger brother this he dryly replied with a 'Really? Your really just figuring this out?', not in a mean way but in a 'What the fuck else did you think was going on? Thyroid? Heavy genes?'
So here is the plain truth. My name is Clare and I'm an overeater. I eat when I'm sad, I eat when I'm happy. I eat when I'm bored, busy, just in case and when I see the clock hands hit a particular time. I hate to be hungry, it panics me, worries me, makes me feel....empty.
It would appear that I've been attempting to fill that emptiness, that hole, that void, over the years with 1) Food, 2) Alcohol and 3) Smoke. Since I quit smoking in January I have gained close to 8 kilo, this is despite training for and running the 12.7km City to Surf in June. Committed.
So I'm realising all this because this past 13 days so often I have felt the urge to eat...but instead of indulging that urge I stop and have a think about my hunger. Turns out I'm hungry for a lot of things not just food. I'm hungry for a maid, who could do the cleaning that needs to be done around the home that I delay doing by....stopping for something to eat. I'm hungry for a nanny, to assist me in the raising of 2 wonderful children who I too often bribe, distract or shut up with food. I'm hungry for love and acknowledgement, from myself, from my family, that I reward myself with food for that quick fix.
Holy dooley talk about breakthroughs. The first week was difficult, I felt hungry (duh), uncomfortable and frustrated. This past week has been better, more energy, more awareness and....
I weighed in last night at the end of a long day and I had lost 1.4 kilo in 12 days. I am loving myself sick. This is exactly what I was hoping for. Got a new goal in my sights and it's totally achievable...Go Team Biz!
Sunday, August 19, 2012
12 Weeks
For the past 6 weeks I have sought comfort in food, alcohol & occassionally running. I've become caught in this cycle of feeling down, eating crap, feeling crap, eating badly, feeling badly and on it goes.
Drinking most nights has not helped things, that stuff really is depressing! I've run sporadically, without any sense of purpose, or determination, not often enough. Let's be honest, I've got fat, sluggish and miserable.
A week ago I downloaded some guided meditations onto my Iphone, including 'Shape Up and Get Fit' and 'IMotivated!'. I have listened to a half hour session almost every day since...and fallen asleep everytime, but despite this, it's working. I haven't had a drink in nearly a week, or chocolate, cake, custard, chips...shall I go on? I've also had a bout of mild gastro - but I'm inclined to believe this was my mind & body working as one to detox me from all that rubbish I'd been swallowing down.
Next step in getting myself back to myself is do to something that challenges me and requires commitment. I've enrolled in a 12 week Healthy Diet, Fitness, Mind program that a local gym is running. What's really confronting about this, other than all of it, is that the facilitator is a very good friend of mine I have known since I was a child. She looks after my daughter for me when I work and we are very good friends. And now I have to get on the scales in front of her, have my body parts measured by her & remain accountable to myself and her for at least the next 12 weeks - if not forever because we are such good friends! I'm a small part terrified....but mostly, dare I say it, so excited to be starting this new journey and having her support me through it.
Most of all though, I'm excited to feel good about myself again. To feel healthy in my head and my body. To not look 4 months pregnant anymore. To be a role model to my children, but particularly my daughter. To have my partner look at me with a renewed energy, to be proud of myself. Not to mention looking fantastic for my step brothers wedding in, that's right, 13 weeks. Perfect.
Drinking most nights has not helped things, that stuff really is depressing! I've run sporadically, without any sense of purpose, or determination, not often enough. Let's be honest, I've got fat, sluggish and miserable.
A week ago I downloaded some guided meditations onto my Iphone, including 'Shape Up and Get Fit' and 'IMotivated!'. I have listened to a half hour session almost every day since...and fallen asleep everytime, but despite this, it's working. I haven't had a drink in nearly a week, or chocolate, cake, custard, chips...shall I go on? I've also had a bout of mild gastro - but I'm inclined to believe this was my mind & body working as one to detox me from all that rubbish I'd been swallowing down.
Next step in getting myself back to myself is do to something that challenges me and requires commitment. I've enrolled in a 12 week Healthy Diet, Fitness, Mind program that a local gym is running. What's really confronting about this, other than all of it, is that the facilitator is a very good friend of mine I have known since I was a child. She looks after my daughter for me when I work and we are very good friends. And now I have to get on the scales in front of her, have my body parts measured by her & remain accountable to myself and her for at least the next 12 weeks - if not forever because we are such good friends! I'm a small part terrified....but mostly, dare I say it, so excited to be starting this new journey and having her support me through it.
Most of all though, I'm excited to feel good about myself again. To feel healthy in my head and my body. To not look 4 months pregnant anymore. To be a role model to my children, but particularly my daughter. To have my partner look at me with a renewed energy, to be proud of myself. Not to mention looking fantastic for my step brothers wedding in, that's right, 13 weeks. Perfect.
Monday, July 30, 2012
33
Today I became 33 years old. I am so pleased to be getting older! I really think I'm getting better at a lot of things with age. Running, sexing, blogging & pelvic floor exercises are just a few.
In saying that I also weigh 10 kilos more than I did this time last year. Dislike. Have a head full of thoughts that tell me this needs to change, but a stomach that keeps reminding me to feed it, fill it, flavour it.
I've written some goals down to have achieved by my 34th. Competing in a swimming race is one of them and fitting into my gorgeous black strapless tulle number is another. No pressure.
Lots of things have made me smile lately. We took Leo's training wheels off his bike in about April & have made no progress in getting him on the bike since. I've forced him into riding a few times, but try managing an unwilling & unexperienced bike rider, a toddler & a dog at your local oval. It's not particularly relaxing.
We went camping on Friday and asides from it being terrific fun it was a shamejob for Leo because his 2 friends aged 4 & 6 both had their 2 wheeled bikes & were cruising around with glee. He had to kind of sit back and pretend not to care. Once we got back home I remembered we had some leftover lollies from camping and shamelessly bribed him with 2 now, 2 when we get back if you ride around the block. Note that I am still holding onto the back of his bike to ensure his stability/safety. Well those lollies worked a treat because he was off, minus Mums hand (albeit briefly)! A glorious thing to see your child master a skill. Still got some work to do, but great joy for us both.
Another thing that is wonderful is WORK! Away from home. That pays well! I'm working with asylum seekers who are relatively fresh off the boat and I just love it. So many stories to tell. People so happy to have made it safely here. So much to learn, for all of us. I go home at the end of a shift and feel not just lucky, but priveleged to call this country my home. And always so happy to see my kids after a few hours away! What a difference it makes to us all to have our slightly separate lives.
Finally, today after having a wonderful birthday, I left Maggie downstairs, sans nappy, to play in the yard. I came back to find her, plus a pile of poo, in the front seat of my car. Happy Birthday to You Mum. It was terrible, but in this optimistic frame of mind I currently have I'm pleased that 1) she didn't take the handbrake off and 2)it wasn't wee - so much harder to get out of upholstery. It's been a great day and I'm a lucky girl.
In saying that I also weigh 10 kilos more than I did this time last year. Dislike. Have a head full of thoughts that tell me this needs to change, but a stomach that keeps reminding me to feed it, fill it, flavour it.
I've written some goals down to have achieved by my 34th. Competing in a swimming race is one of them and fitting into my gorgeous black strapless tulle number is another. No pressure.
Lots of things have made me smile lately. We took Leo's training wheels off his bike in about April & have made no progress in getting him on the bike since. I've forced him into riding a few times, but try managing an unwilling & unexperienced bike rider, a toddler & a dog at your local oval. It's not particularly relaxing.
We went camping on Friday and asides from it being terrific fun it was a shamejob for Leo because his 2 friends aged 4 & 6 both had their 2 wheeled bikes & were cruising around with glee. He had to kind of sit back and pretend not to care. Once we got back home I remembered we had some leftover lollies from camping and shamelessly bribed him with 2 now, 2 when we get back if you ride around the block. Note that I am still holding onto the back of his bike to ensure his stability/safety. Well those lollies worked a treat because he was off, minus Mums hand (albeit briefly)! A glorious thing to see your child master a skill. Still got some work to do, but great joy for us both.
Another thing that is wonderful is WORK! Away from home. That pays well! I'm working with asylum seekers who are relatively fresh off the boat and I just love it. So many stories to tell. People so happy to have made it safely here. So much to learn, for all of us. I go home at the end of a shift and feel not just lucky, but priveleged to call this country my home. And always so happy to see my kids after a few hours away! What a difference it makes to us all to have our slightly separate lives.
Finally, today after having a wonderful birthday, I left Maggie downstairs, sans nappy, to play in the yard. I came back to find her, plus a pile of poo, in the front seat of my car. Happy Birthday to You Mum. It was terrible, but in this optimistic frame of mind I currently have I'm pleased that 1) she didn't take the handbrake off and 2)it wasn't wee - so much harder to get out of upholstery. It's been a great day and I'm a lucky girl.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Goodbye
I'm not really sure how to write about the funeral.
In one respect it was terrible, as funerals should be. Lots of crying, red eyes, hugging. A wooden box containing your precious person. Tears leaking out and a heart so heavy it ached.
Yet it was also brilliant, a room full of people who all loved this same person, who had come from many places to honour him. Photos of his wonderful life shown on a screen, memories of a happy childhood, a brilliant young adult and a wonderful happy man.
It was held in a funeral home, no Gods or prayers, no incense or wafers. The funeral director read a few bad poems, talked a bit about Don, then invited Dons sons to come and speak. Both his boys are smart, strong minded guys, very good with words.
And so they blew us all away. They each told stories of their Dad, funny, warm, familiar stories of a man whose eyes smiled at everyone & who no-one ever just met, but someone people always liked and usually loved. They talked of their own feelings about losing him, but that what he had taught them about life was to be rational and honest. To question and enjoy. To love and remember.
It was a tribute so fitting you could almost feel him in the room. He wasn't gone, he had left in each of us, but particularly these 2 beloved boys of his, memories and love that would live on always. So many stories and so much warmth.
I cried to say goodbye, but afterwards I felt such a sense of peace. I feel so lucky to have known him, so grateful to have had him in my life. He was truly loved and I'm so happy I got to love him. It's going to be a long road, particularly for my Mum who has travelled this path before. More than the grief of losing him though, is the joy of having had him.
In one respect it was terrible, as funerals should be. Lots of crying, red eyes, hugging. A wooden box containing your precious person. Tears leaking out and a heart so heavy it ached.
Yet it was also brilliant, a room full of people who all loved this same person, who had come from many places to honour him. Photos of his wonderful life shown on a screen, memories of a happy childhood, a brilliant young adult and a wonderful happy man.
It was held in a funeral home, no Gods or prayers, no incense or wafers. The funeral director read a few bad poems, talked a bit about Don, then invited Dons sons to come and speak. Both his boys are smart, strong minded guys, very good with words.
And so they blew us all away. They each told stories of their Dad, funny, warm, familiar stories of a man whose eyes smiled at everyone & who no-one ever just met, but someone people always liked and usually loved. They talked of their own feelings about losing him, but that what he had taught them about life was to be rational and honest. To question and enjoy. To love and remember.
It was a tribute so fitting you could almost feel him in the room. He wasn't gone, he had left in each of us, but particularly these 2 beloved boys of his, memories and love that would live on always. So many stories and so much warmth.
I cried to say goodbye, but afterwards I felt such a sense of peace. I feel so lucky to have known him, so grateful to have had him in my life. He was truly loved and I'm so happy I got to love him. It's going to be a long road, particularly for my Mum who has travelled this path before. More than the grief of losing him though, is the joy of having had him.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
He died
Donno died last night about midnight.
I thought it would be a relief but it's not. It's a crushing, frightening despair that he isn't here anymore.
My heart is breaking for Mum, for his boys, for us, for Leo.
How do I tell my son his Grandpa has died?
I've been shown a lot of support from some of you who read this blog and I thank you for it.
I can't even make any bad jokes. Yet.
I just loved him. I'm going to miss him so much.
I thought it would be a relief but it's not. It's a crushing, frightening despair that he isn't here anymore.
My heart is breaking for Mum, for his boys, for us, for Leo.
How do I tell my son his Grandpa has died?
I've been shown a lot of support from some of you who read this blog and I thank you for it.
I can't even make any bad jokes. Yet.
I just loved him. I'm going to miss him so much.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Ironies
I've never really been able to define irony, I'm not sure it is definable? But these are my ironies since I last wrote.
I did the run. Slow & steady, felt amazing, very proud. Until I went for a massage later on that day & the massage lady said 'Oh! You pregnant?!'.
Some satisfaction gained from answering 'No, just fat'. But not enough.
An awkward moment last night when we met some friends at a kid friendly pub. Had a lovely evening, ran into several people I hadn't seen in ages. Including a girl I once pashed at 3 am one late 90's night. She has grown her once shaved head out to a discreet bob & has a male partner & child in tow and of course there is me, suzy homemaker with my tribe of love. We made a bit of small talk but essentially it was super awkward. Good to have been young once.
Finally, no irony here, just a bit too much red wine and a heavy heart. Donno is too sick. He will die. Soon. My heart, my head, my eyes hurt to know it. This familiar journey, wanting someone you love to be out of pain but knowing what the other side holds. A big old empty space where he should be. A life, a family, so many occasions that he should be in. It is shit. A thrumming of pain, worry, nervous energy. Oh to have the chance to tell him how much he means to me, to us. I'm so scared of how hard it's going to be to miss him.
I did the run. Slow & steady, felt amazing, very proud. Until I went for a massage later on that day & the massage lady said 'Oh! You pregnant?!'.
Some satisfaction gained from answering 'No, just fat'. But not enough.
An awkward moment last night when we met some friends at a kid friendly pub. Had a lovely evening, ran into several people I hadn't seen in ages. Including a girl I once pashed at 3 am one late 90's night. She has grown her once shaved head out to a discreet bob & has a male partner & child in tow and of course there is me, suzy homemaker with my tribe of love. We made a bit of small talk but essentially it was super awkward. Good to have been young once.
Finally, no irony here, just a bit too much red wine and a heavy heart. Donno is too sick. He will die. Soon. My heart, my head, my eyes hurt to know it. This familiar journey, wanting someone you love to be out of pain but knowing what the other side holds. A big old empty space where he should be. A life, a family, so many occasions that he should be in. It is shit. A thrumming of pain, worry, nervous energy. Oh to have the chance to tell him how much he means to me, to us. I'm so scared of how hard it's going to be to miss him.
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