Wednesday, 4 November 2009

The Hard Way

Everything I have learnt in life was learnt the hard way, making mistakes, facing consequences, sometimes having to make multiple mistakes of similar nature to learn that they all end with the same set of consequences. I keep wondering when I will get to be able to learn and do things the easy way.

Well now I am wondering if I am going to yet again learn the hard way.

You see tonight, well I gave the man I love a letter, telling him a lot of the things that I cant voice aloud, or things that I did voice that he seems to have not heard or dismissed as me being dramatic. I told him exactly what I wanted and asked him to go spend some time away from me and to work out what it is that he wants now and for the next ten or twenty years (at least). I also put a somewhat of a demand in there, he HAS to make a decision and tell me what it is.

So if I have made a mistake then I may just have ended my relationship with the only man I have ever loved so much that it physically hurts when he isn't here or we have an argument.

If I haven't made that mistake then maybe he will finally make a decision and I wont have to live in limbo while I wait, teetering between two extremes - fearing he will find something better and just walk out or hoping he will realise that our relationship is worth it and that while his parents and my parents may have stuffed up their marriages, that not all marriages equal doom.

See the biggest problem is that I crave the security of knowing that he is committed to us, he fears any form of commitment, most especially anything related to marriage.

I have been married once before (one of my learnt the hard way lessons). The man I love had never had a relationship last even six months, until he met me. Last year after 5 and a bit years together, he walked out, well not physically at first (its long and complicated, like everything else in my life – add sarcastic yet sad lol) and then after months of angst and pain, including him moving temporarily to his mothers place and then into a granny flat, he realised it was me that he wanted after all (long story, but he was/is suffering depression, and had never had to look after himself for more than a few days, so didn't realise what he had until he threw it away). Anyway, since valentines day we have been back together, not officially for a bit, but slowly working on it and doing ok for the most part.

There are still issues that plague us and that commitment thing is the crux of it, because it seems to be linked to his depression, and because the fear of not knowing, the living in limbo, makes me a walking emotional hormonal mess.

Oh and just to add to the list of problems, because of the depression, he has a lower libido than me (very backwards there, I was always sure it was the male that was supposed to want sex ten times a day, not the female), and because he works long hours in a physically demanding job, then spends 2 to 3 hours an evening punishing himself in the gym (yes he does look good with muscles and it makes him feel better about himself), he is too tired to be interested in anything else on a regular or even semi regular basis, making me a very edgy and unhappy girl, who just wants to know she is wanted and needed and loved by the only man she has eyes for.

So apparently I am weird, not only do I have the unusually high libido, I also would happily go live in the fifties, where the men did the men things and the women did the women's things and there was very clear defined roles.

At the moment in my house I am the breadwinner/homemaker/housecleaner/mother/father/wife/husband/accountant/teacher and just to add to the stress, I am also the student. I juggle the housecleaning with finishing my degree, I am rebuilding broken bits of my house, can replumb my own taps or toilet, paint, plaster, tile. I CAN do lawn work and own a brushcutter and good mower, yet I DONT WANT to do the lawns or maintain the garden, I want to just enjoy them, the same way that most men DONT WANT to clean the house or do the dishes, they just want to relax and enjoy a friendly, warm, inviting house and eat good food served on clean dishware.

I want a husband!! I want a partner, one who will share the providing of income. I am getting a degree in nursing and do plan to work as a nurse, I have no problem with working plus keeping a house and mothering, I just want to share the load so that I don't have to be both sides/halves of everything. I thought that wasn't too unreasonable a request. I want someone who will be there for me, I don't have family to do that for me, other than my beautiful kids, so surely its not much to ask for a man who will try to remember my birthday, Christmas, an anniversary (once a year, I don't mind if its not the exact date, or the right day, wrong month, don't care, just once a year do something special) and be there for special things, like when i fuck up an assignment, or pass a stressful exam, or drive me to said exam because I am a basket case that hasn't slept for a week while studying madly! I want help raising my kids, I can make all the decisions, set punishments, decide rewards, do homework etc, but someone to be there as a backup if I have to go away (pracs are good for that), someone to stand with me when I am standing up to a teenager pushing the boundaries. These are the sorts of things I want.

I also want to have a shared dream/goal. We used to have that, but then all of a sudden (well it was sudden for me, he didn't tell me things had changed until well after), that shared dream/goal was gone. Now I have future plans, but they are vague, I am working towards them, but without knowing if its just me or if their will be an “us”, I find it hard to make them more clear.

The kids and I want to live on a property. I always wanted 100 acres, but now that I am restricted to within 30 minutes of my current residence (due to kids schooling, as well as most of my friends are here, and my mans work and mother are here as well), I find myself looking at properties that are well and truly over inflated in value (two hours west of here 100 acres with no house would be anywhere from $65,000 - $200,000. Here the same bit of land is worth $1,200,000!!). So, I am willing to settle for as small as 10 acres if I really must, just to get out of suburbia (and away from the neighbours from hell, whose favourite pastime is bashing and terrorising white females/children or breaking and entering houses and cars). I want a NEWLY built shed home (after 11 years of fixing things on my 40 odd year old ex housing commission home), and I want a veggie garden and some chooks, horses, goats and a cow or two, as well as my existing dog (aussie cattle dog) and my two cats.

Now I can probably get enough of a loan (once current house is sold) once I am working fulltime as an RN, for a small parcel of land and the basic shed home. But I cant see how I can maintain such a property and work fulltime, when I already have trouble maintaining my current quarter acre while studying and working part time.

So, I at least have an idea of where I am trying to head, what I am working towards and roughly what I need to do to achieve this, but I have no idea what my man wants, mainly because he either doesn't know or doesn't want to admit it or tell me.

So in telling the man I love that I want all of the above, and that I want him as a 100% partner, committed, in the role of husband if he cant face actual marriage (its really just a bit of paper) and role of parent (he is already partly been in that role for years, no real change there, other than admitting it to himself) and that I want him to work out what he wants so we can try to make a shared future. I may have just chased him away, or I may have done the right thing and he might actually face some fears and it might work out.

But right now, I am alone (i did ask him for time out, so that i can get some stuff done that i have been putting off but need done before my next prac which is in three weeks time), I need him to hug me and tell me he loves me and doesn't want to lose me, and I am terrified that he will misunderstand me and end it, or that he wont be ready to make a commitment and end it because of whatever reason.

So now I am even more fearful, hopeful, terrified and wondering if I have yet again fucked up something good. Except this relationship, it isn't just good, its special, fantastic, everything, and I am afraid of being alone for the rest of my life, living in regret.

Ok well I had to tell someone, thanks for reading if you made it this far.

Wednesday, 28 October 2009


LOL well I had this wonderful topic rattling around in my head last night, so decided to share it.


What is Poo?? 

Well for starters, we are not talking about that loveable character “ Winnie The Pooh “ by E.E. Milne.

Well as a noun it is a slang or colloquialism for faecal matter, yet it can also be used in the form of a verb, for instance a young child is told to “Go Poo” (preferably in the toilet).

It can also be a statement, when walking into a room with a noxious odour, a person might say “Poo” while madly fanning the offending odour away from their sensitive olfactory glands.

Another meaning arises when a person needing to swear, yet trying not to because little ears can become parrots, or older ears could be sensitive, so the person says “Oh Poo!!” instead of “That's BullShit” or “FUCK!!!”.

It seems Poo is almost a taboo topic, yet everyone does it, everyone knows about it, but we rarely discuss it, other than in select groups, i.e. new mothers suddenly find poo is a common topic of their daily lives, as it is also for nurses or those working in aged care.

Most people are shocked to find that doctors, nurses, naturopaths, dieticians and many more “professionals” are interested or concerned about their patients/clients poo.

Yet it is so because it is a very simple way to measure the inner health of a person, not only their digestion, but their kidney & liver function, their immune state, and much more.

Many couples are horrified that their partner might walk in and catch them in the act of pooing, that seems to be a line, a boundary, once its crossed, their really isn't any more mystery or secrets (thanking my lovely other half for that comment, which was said in jest, but it fits my topic so well lol). I wonder though, if you cant discuss poo with your partner, who can you discuss it with?

Maybe because I am studying nursing, my other half has gotten comfortable with telling me intricate details of his daily motions, questioning my bank of knowledge to analyse any changes, allay any fears. This has partly come about after he had to have stomach surgery and then found out he also has a food intolerance, so has become hyper sensitive to changes in his poo habits as they indicate how well he is tolerating new foods (or not tolerating them).

Poo is a constant topic between mothers and their children. About to leave on a long car trip, its common to send children to “go poo and wee NOW”, knowing that it could be at least 2 hours until the next available toilet. Or simply going grocery shopping, halfway through filling a trolley with the needed items, your child announces that they DESPERATELY need to poo. Not all shops are ok with minding your half filled trolley while you leave the shop, especially if it already contains perishables or items on sale.

Having a son on the “interesting” scale, at almost 12 yrs of age, I still have to ask him to wipe properly or wash his hands with soap and I still have to soak poo trails out of his underwear and probably will have to do this for the rest of his life (or at least until someone else takes over his washing for me). However I thank God regularly and remind myself that I am pretty lucky, I know other parents with “interesting” children who have it far worse on the Poo scale, some having to clean up daily poo parties that involve linen, walls, carpet and even family members tooth brushes (Hugs K!), So in the scale of things, I am very lucky that when God was handing out all the different traits the “interesting” children could choose to make their own personal rainbow, that my child didn't choose anything worse.

I also deal with poo on a daily basis at the moment as we have a kitten in the pica stage of development, making cleaning her litter tray interesting, as you remove chunks of poo decorated with bits of colour paper, balloons, beads, crayons and anything else she decided might be interesting to eat. I am often amazed she manages to pass some of these things through her gut.

This often reminds me of my children going through daycare/preschool. I could always tell the days they had made playdough as they used to make it with glitter in it for decoration and my son would eat it, resulting in a nappy full of “glitter poo” later that night or early the next morning.

By now, if you’ve read this far, you may wonder HOW or WTF got me onto this topic. Well to be honest I am not totally sure. It could have been a post I read from a mother of a young child that reminded me of the “glitter poo” nappies, or the discussing with my partner after we both came down with gastro due to drinking bore water while away on the weekend, or it could have just been my unusual brain’s habit of providing me with random topics to keep me awake at nights.

So before I finish, I will leave you with some interesting facts.

  • If you are healthy, you should poo at least once a day, at a fairly regular time.
  • It should not be pale or khaki in colour, nor dark or black.
  • It should not be runny, nor should it be hard, pebbly or dry.
  • It should not float.
  • Mucousy poo is a sign of bowel inflammation.
  • Black is processed (old) blood, so if you haven't eaten raw meat or taken iron supplements, then go see your doctor ASAP if you have black or black flecked poo.
  • If you find it hard to poo regularly, try drinking half a litre of warm water about 20 minutes before your “poo time”.

Mine is in the mornings, normally 20 minutes after my morning coffee, so I know something is wrong if this time has come and gone and I haven't “gone” (In my case this generally means I have been naughty and eaten wheat and will suffer painful cramping and bloating later on).

Keeping a track of your poo may sound gross, but having that knowledge ready means the next time a nurse or naturopath or doctor etc asks you about your bowel habits, you can pleasantly surprise them with detailed knowledge.

Alright well that's enough shit about shit lol.

And if you haven't already today :-

GO POO!!!!!

Friday, 9 October 2009

Midnight Ponderings

Have you ever had something that you really wanted, a goal or a dream, that wasnt entirely impossible, yet it terrified you beyond imagining, kept you awake at night, or woke you up from a sound sleep feeling anxious??

I often turn the lights out, put my head on the pillow, get comfortable, yawn, cuddle up to my man and then theoretically I should just ease into a sound and peaceful sleep. Right???


Just like tonight, my body is exhausted, I have to be up in a few hours and yet I cant sleep, and its all because my brain wont shut up and worst of all, its worrying and anxious, bordering on depressed, and not being able to get the answers it needs because to do that, I would have to admit my fears and worries and then put everything on the line, risking more hurt and rejection than I am already feeling and worrying about.

True, its possible the answers might be good and make me feel so much better, but to be truthful, I have very little confidence in that being the case, and there lies the crux of my problems..... Confidence.

I had a great friend in highschool, many many moons ago, that was one of the most cheerful, happy, lovely girls I have ever met. At sixteen she was at least 20 maybe 30 kilo's overweight, and while it bothered her, she never let it stop her enjoying life, friends, parties etc. The only time she ever admitted it bothered her was when we had a heart to heart one day about the most common thing a sixteen year old girl talks about ... BOYS. She had had many crushes on boys over the years, only for them to treat her like just another boy, while making googoo eyes at all her friends and she was certain this was because of her weight. I asked her why she didnt do something to try and change her weight, offering to be there to support her if she wanted me there, her answer shocked me.

She was SCARED of losing that weight, because she would have nothing to hide behind then and she had seen how bitchy and unhappy most of the skinny girls were and didnt want to be like them. That was an answer I had never expected to hear and couldnt understand at the time.

Yet here I am now, understanding because I have similar fears and wishing I hadnt lost contact with that girl (have been trying to find her on the internet for years now), so I could talk to her again, see how she went, did she conquer those fears??

You see when we had that chat years ago, I was 62kg, putting me at least 5 - 10kg underweight for my height and bone structure, even though I ate enough for three people every day, I just had a hyperactive metabolism. Then when I was diagnosed with endometriosis at 17 I started taking the recommended drug (depoprovera) and within 6 months I had almost no metabolism, barely ate enough for an ethiopian child to survive on, and had boomed up to 96kg. Several operations later plus the birth of 2 children and the resulting total hysterectomy, I weighed in at 135kg. Double the weight I had been 6 years prior. I was so unhappy and never felt like I was "ME" but try as I may, I could only get down to 105kg.

Thats what I weighed when I met my soulmate, the man of my dreams (literally and figuratively). He fell in love with me in spite of my weight, the size of my clothes or the fact that I wouldnt wear swimmers or swim in public. We used to walk all over the place, do activities that I hadnt done in years, have fun etc and I was so happy that with a little help, I managed to get down to 83kg, but I lost a lot of muscle tone in doing that, so wasnt as fit as I had been when we first met and this was noticeable because I wasnt as active, tired all the time etc.

A year later our relationship hit rock bottom without me even realising until it was too late that he wasnt happy, and one of the many reasons he finally told me was that he wanted a partner that was fit and active like he was, one that he could play football with or go to the gym with or swim at the beach with. I was devestated to say the least. It took 8 months but he got past the other issues that had been causing him to feel depressed and came back to me and slowly we have rebuilt our relationship, yet it isnt totally rebuilt yet and I often fear that one day he will leave again, and because of that, my self image is very fragile. Simple comments can shatter me when they were not meant that way and seeing myself in the mirror makes it all the more scarier because he is so active and fit and has such strong goals to get muscled up, that I wonder if he is revolted when he sees me naked. I wouldnt blame him because I am revolted everytime I see me in the mirror. So I got a gym membership and have slowly begun getting fit, slowly because a normal workout means I am exhausted for the next two days and in pain for at least three.

The fact that I dont go to the gym more than once a week seems to frustrate him, and it frustrates me too, but I cant explain or tell him my fears, so there is no way he could know just how hard it is. How do I explain that I have noticed that while I am getting fitter and stronger, I seem to be looking fatter! I know I am not getting fatter, but unfortunately all those operations and two babies over 9 pounds have left my stomach muscles very weak and the skin stretched, maybe beyond the point of self repair, so as I lose weight, my stomach seems to sag all the more noticeably, making me look worse and worse and while my arms and upper body start to tone up, my legs seem to be looking more and more shocking.

Dont get me wrong, I know its a long process, I know that it takes a lot of work to lose weight and tone up and I was prepared for that, but I wasnt prepared for the stomach. I guess i had kind of hoped that if I lost the weight slowly and gently that it would have a chance at repairing and tightening and toning itself. It makes me wonder about all those people that go on things like the biggest loser, how much stomach surgery do they have to have later on, how much do they not tell anyone about when it comes to fears and image problems that are actually worse during the process than they were before they lost weight.

Even worse is that my mind runs away with me, my man has been very tired this week, especially with daylight savings buggering his body clock and making it that he has to get out of bed an hour before his body is used to waking up, getting up in the dark again after he just got used to the fact that the sun was up before he was, so he hasnt been interested in any bedtime activities other than snoring soundly. BUT when he fails to show me that much needed extra attention, my low self image and low confidence suggests that maybe he has noticed the even more saggy stomach and is revolted by it as much as I am, but is just being too nice to tell me so. So instead of curling up warm and comfy with him, I lie there feeling like a leper, worrying that he will see some cute young female during the day (he is a tradie, comes across all sorts of people everyday) and that he will start seeing and comparing the differences, or worse, has already done that and found me lacking. Is this really the case?? Well I dont know, I certainly hope its not, but I am too petrified to ask, because maybe it is, but if it isnt, maybe he hasnt noticed the extra saggy belly and I dont want to bring attention to it, so I curl up and face those fears and worries by myself until my exhausted body takes over and simply knocks me into unconciousness.

And all those worries and fears bring me to remembering that conversation that day with my friend about how she could be SCARED to lose weight.

I understand now. I just wish I could find her and tell her that and maybe make up for not understanding back then.

Thursday, 1 October 2009

Todays Men - A VENT!!

Brand new tyre (well 14 days old), drove over a screw and punctured it on the way to swimming lessons, so I ended up having to change a dead flat rear tyre on a stationwagon in the middle of a carpark.

Not a problem because for all of the things my father has done wrong in my life, he did that one thing very right, he made sure I am independant, capable and able to do anything I set my mind too.

HOWEVER, I was amazed to watch 30 (yes I am anal enough to have counted them all) cars drive past me in the car park, 20 of them having healthy looking males in them, a lot wearing tradesmen or council clothing AND NOT 1 stopped to offer me help, but plenty stopped within metres of me to park their car and get out to go to the pool or the gym.

Several men came out of the gym, grinned, ogled boobs (i was not dressed for changing tyres today) and then got in their cars and drove off!! BASTARDS!!! . Only offer of help that I got was from a 50+ year old woman!!!

No matter that i am capable and independant (even with a bruised cruciate and a broken toe),


They say a change is as good as a holiday, well whoever "they" are, they were WRONG!!

I decided to try a new and very simple recipe for dinner tonight as I am somewhat sick of eating the same things over and over again, but on a budget and with food intolerances/allergy, this is not always as easy as it sounds. To make it harder, I have a child that cant cope with change, even simple little things changing can cause him (hmm trying to think of a single word that can describe it) issues.

The recipe called for chicken, basil, peanut oil, shallots, chinese cabbage, garlic, lime juice, sugar and fish sauce.

I bought wombuk. My kids stood in the shop and argued whether it was chinese cabbage or not, thankfully that argument ended in laughter when Boo argued that the label said it was a WomBAT not a cabbage!! (there is nothing wrong with her reading, its just that information goes in, gets muddled and comes out funny sometimes, generally causing Moo and myself to disolve into fits of giggles at innapropriate moments while Boo either giggles with us or stomps her foot and cries in frustration).

BUT heaven help me, silly me, I let Moo read the ingredient list, he argued most of it, and he wonders why his mother is losing her sanity!! It is at this point I wonder WHY I got the really smart kid that questions everything, yet doesnt understand if its not all black and white and exactly as its written. He is MINE and I wouldnt give him up or change him for anything in the world or beyond, but I do sometimes wonder WHY, and these wonderings are generally at moments like tonight, when trying to rationalise a shopping list to a prepubescent, precocious, PITA, Moo!

The bloody shop didnt have anything with a label that said shallots:(

Dont they know that if it doesnt have the right label then I am going to have to spend half an hour explaining why i am buying the wrong one that is the right one or can be used inplace of the right one, just so the child with the list will hopefully let me get back to the car before my head explodes!!

So after all of that I i bought spring onions and on the way to the car at least Moo said they look similar so he thought it would be ok if we used them instead (Thanking God for that revelation occurring so bloody quickly, at least next time I will be able to grab spring onions and not explain them). He then spent the trip home arguing the difference between shallots and chives with his sister, as Boo was trying to explain that she had seen the plant i wanted in flower in my garden (garlic chives, similar but not).

I bought the fish sauce from the thai place downtown just before Boo's dance lesson earlier in the afternoon. Well if that didnt cause me a headache and a half!! They were still arguing about it after the lesson and all the way into the grocery shop.

Did you know that if it has a picture on the front of the bottle that is a squid, then the stuff in the bottle MUST be made of liquid squid??

Dont worry that it MIGHT be a BRAND NAME rather than an INGREDIENT!!! Oh and have a child having very noisy verbal palpitations because now the meal is going to TASTE LIKE SQUID instead of chicken. How dare I subject him to such CHANGE during his favourite activity (eating apparently rates higher than computer games or tv). The other child thought it might be soy sauce with a bit of fish added. Funny enough neither of them actually asked me WHAT was in the bottle (anchovies and seasalt to be precise). I try not to look or notice the faces of the people trying to shop near and around us, its easier if I dont see the looks.

At least the basil in a tube (wasnt any fresh basil), garlic in a jar (dont ask me why, but my son likes eating it straight from the jar!) and lime juice in a bottle ( by this stage my head was hurting too much to work out how many limes i would need to make 1/4 cup of juice) were easily grabbed and the only argument was from Boo who wanted to know (and I quote) " Are you looking for something Mummy or are we just aimlessly wandering down the aisles??", gee i wonder where she heard that from??

The chicken wasnt contested for a change, probably because it didnt have skin or bones!! Neither was the bottle of milk i requested, but thats because i promised never to buy kids milk again, the added omega three made it taste something shocking!! However we did have the argument that carrying the milk through two aisles meant they had numb fingers, but for some reason ended up with 2 x 3ltr bottles, I think maybe my kids like milk??.

I did mean to buy a few other things, but by the time i got that much my head was pounding, my broken and sliced up toe was throbbing and my knee (really got to stop injuring the stupid thing) was aching from trying not to step on aforementioned toe, so with all the ingredients for the meal I wanted to make, I decided to get out of there while I was still slightly sane and capable of actually preparing and cooking it. Good thing said children desperately wanted to watch the spearman experiment (or whatever its called), because it got them to make their beds and clean their rooms while I destressed infront of the computer for a bit and then kept them occupied while i cooked, so they dont know that I didnt follow the recipe exactly, i modified it to suit myself amd didnt have to answer or explain that to anyone (yayy).

On the bright side they loved the meal, gave me glorious rave reviews (apparently my meals are being reviewed and marks are being recorded in a notebook somewhere) and then went to bed without too much argument (only a few whines from the male child). I think I shall make this meal again (well I had to buy a litre of fish sauce, was the smallest bottle I could find, got to use it on something lol).

I guess overall the change wasnt too bad, would be nice if it was just a little less blood pressure raisingly painful to get through, especially when it occurs on a regular basis and it normally takes the same thing over and over and over and over and over until we can do it without the conniptions and palpitations and stress headaches.

Holland Down Under - The Clog Barn

Our trip to coffs saw us visiting many places, but these were just so cute and the garden is fantastically maintained (bushes must be constantly pruned to keep them in the right proportions to the buildings etc). Now just bear in mind that these are not all in order as we walked backwards and forwards several times through this compact yet surprising garden village.

*** Found this post hiding away in my drafts folder, apparently i was going to write more or edit it later and forgot about it lol!!