got me like
And first may I just point out to my lovely new readers (ha ha that’s so weird – that people I don’t even know are reading this – hi there and haere mai!) who are here thanks to the lovely Fee’s recommendation on her page Shineon – that I have a wee bit of a potty mouth. You may have figured that out by now but I just thought I’d acknowledge it. I’m not sorry – I like swear words – I think they punctuate and accentuate my otherwise fairly bland drivel – but I am aware that some people find them a bit much. Rest assured that my mother brought me up right ok? Although it IS a really good reason not to accidentally share my posts to my Deaning facebook page ha ha that wouldn’t be good.
Today! Three days in a row! Oh my goodness. I told some of my girls today that we could build a (good, studious) habit in them if we could sustain one thing for seven days. For them it was the fairly mundane goal of attending all of their classes for the whole day. They just weren’t ‘feeling it’. The yoof of today! I ask you.
Anyhoo I read somewhere that you start with seven days, turn that in to three weeks and there you have it – a habit. And it takes another 3 months to break said habit. But your heart has to be in it. I feel like I’ve been slacking on this here blog thing recently – and I value the reflection and processing that it gives me of an evening so am back on it. 3 days now. Winning.
Today was up and down. I think I glutened myself. I grabbed a roasted vege salad from up the road for lunch and I didn’t think to ask them if they had dusted the veges in flour before they roasted them – that is the best way to do roasted potatoes after all so I wouldn’t blame them – and I really and truly suffered. The annoying thing is that it also had roasted red onion in it – and I thought I was okaaaay with COOKED onion (I know raw onion cripples me with awful pain) but there is a chance it could have been that too. No way to know. Ugh.
What I do know is that by 20 minutes after I ate I had the tummy of an eight month pregnant woman (3 – really 3 girls asked me in my afternoon classes if I was pregnant!). I was doubled over and had sharp stabbing pains and felt really bad. Horrible bad,Horrible bad as the wee lad would say.
Nevertheless, I had boxing this evening and decided to do the class anyway – I suspected and I was right – that movement and a bit of twisting and stretching might make me feel better. It was slow going but by the end of the class I felt heaps better. Boot-camp this morning and boxing this evening – the grrls a fucking machine! Actually I’m fucking shattered but it’s that good whole-body exhaustion.
Enough of the complaining – I wanted to show you my current obsession;
It’s a bag. Yes. A gorgeous, truly unique GIANT bag. It’s mine and I love it for a special reason. See the weaving on the front, with all the woolly bits hanging off it? Well my Nana, my favourite old grrl, made that piece. Years ago, and my Mum pulled it out recently when she was going through Nana’s stuff to move them to Auckland this year. She offered it to me and I knew that I didn’t want it to moulder away in a cupboard somewhere.
So I asked around and was put on to a woman named Helen Miller who makes leather bags for a living, and I asked her to make it in to a bag for me. I am SO pleased with the result. I fucking LOVE the tassels. I love that you can see the ‘working’ of it and it’s not all slick and perfect. I took it to show it to Nana on the weekend and she was tickled too. She didn’t definitely remember making it but thought it was def ‘her style’ and entirely possible that she did ha ha. In her defence and dementia aside – it was probably 30 years ago and I can’t even remember last week! But she loved it too and that makes me happy.
So, I probably should go rest this weary body and mentally prepare myself for Parent teacher interviews tomorrow night. I can barely contain my joy.
I have to say – my hair is softer and less frizzy, my face feels good and didn’t start peeling off today until about…. now. I am pleased! I showered last night and washed the oil off my head – now that felt really good – I was beginning to feel like a deep fat fryer. I Baking soda’d my face at the same time and then when I jumped out slicked a teeny tiny bit of coconut oil on my face to take off the edge.
I woke up expecting to have my usual frizzy hair and dry patchy face but not so bad! I had that ‘bed hair’ look that I’ve always liked, no really insane dry frizz though and my skin looked like a normal persons. Amazeballs. I am a convert.
In other news, my lovely workmate brought my b’day gift in and I am now the very lucky owner of a new colouring book – for my mindful downtime yo – check it out down below. Something for me to do instead of candy crush ha ha.
She also bought me a sugar-free, gluten-free, dairy free, all natural flavours with NO artificial colours, sweeteners or preservatives ‘salted caramel’ flavoured chocolate bar. She loves me really – it was thoughtful because she knows I’m a foodtard. It tasted like cancer. No other words suffice. Sorry.
It has been five days since my last post – I blame the first week of school and low iron – I think I might be just a slack bum. I haven’t made it past 9pm any night this last week. Some days I’m asleep before my children.
Today I have the energy to blog. Mostly because I have been at home all day tending to a sick child. He – like most children once you have established they are sick – has not behaved like a sick child at all today. But as I was home anyway and his issue was earache I just kept him inside and tried to drug him with the TV to keep him docile. As he’s currently natural history obsessed it wasn’t so bad. Dinosaurs are kinda cool – and they make me feel young so there’s a bonus.
You know how much you get DONE when you are at home on a school day? HEAPS and HEAPS. These are all the things I have done today;
- I washed and folded all of the washing except for the giant mink blanket that can’t really fit in the machine. I have mentioned the ‘laundry couch’ before – you won’t be surprised to hear that I still have a load in the drier and I have been doing laundry since 9am.
- I vacuumed the house. Twice. You can’t even tell. We have asshole dark carpet and it shows every. single. little. crumb. As my children still live here and have been here today the floor looks dirty again.
- I food shopped.
- I made dinner – at lunchtime – beef casserole. And it was delicious btw.
- Because I was home, my eldest child was able to walk home from school – it was REALLY NICE to be here when he got home to hang out with him.
- I dyed my hair. No I’m not a natural Blue Black – I know it’s a shock. These days I am more a natural white/grey. I have yet to ‘edit’ the white hairs out of my right eyebrow – I am hoping it’ll grow through to be ‘distinguished’ like white bits in men’s beards are. Probs not because damned double standards.
- I painted my nails – both ends. Red for the toes and purple for the fingers.
- I thought about shaving my legs and then though ‘nah’. It’s winter people.
And I tried this thing that I have read about to dry to deal with my whole face peeling off thing that happens. I washed my face with Baking soda. And it felt weird. And Tasted weird. But it didn’t sting and I didn’t get a rash and it didn’t get worse. Which is always a good start!
I followed it up with coconut oil. All over my head. I recently saw the school nurse about my hands. All of the skin on my hands peels off, it gets cracked and sore and looks bad. The GD thought it might be chilblains so I asked Erin at school – she said it was eczema! Said she gets it too and it looked pretty straightforward – that I should get my GP to refer me to a dermatologist. And she suggested that I try coconut oil on my head to stop it all falling off. This may all sound like ‘duh’ to you but every doctor I have showed my skin too has asked me what I am allergic to and suggested I stop eating yet another thing. The concept that it might be something actually treatable with an actual cause is quite exciting to me.
So I am sitting here with my head like an oil slick and the house relatively tidy and I feel like I achieved something today. I have wondered all day what it might be like to not work and to be the homemaker. I’d probably have better skin.
But I’d be bored as batshit.
Remember that I said we were going to get the lads tested for Coeliacs in the holidays? We took them in to the lab in the first week and I went too, I was getting a general WOF and the lads were being checked to see if they had the raised levels indicative of Coeliacs disease.
All week I had been talking my eldest through the blood test, the reason for it and what would happen if A. he gave a positive result and B. if it came back negative. He has been the one of the two lads who we suspect – if either of them would have Coeliacs disease – it would be him. It is something that runs in families – you either have the gene or not and he seems to take after my side of the family with other physical characteristics – also he never seems quite right after a pizza or heavy carby wheaty food. But I could be reading in to it too because I’m hyper sensitive. Whatever – this is why we want them tested – to be sure.
Long story short – our youngest submitted to the blood test – albeit reluctantly – but he still did it. My poor eldest couldn’t make himself be brave enough – and he really tried poor kid. He tried to go first and set a good example but couldn’t, then he watched as his brother did it and tried again but couldn’t let the nurse put the needle in. Fair enough. It is scary when you are only young and as a rule he tends to make stuff like this massive in his head. We soothed him and cuddled him and said ‘no big deal, we’ll try again another time’ and eventually he stopped feeling shamed and was ok. We still have the form and he knows we need to do it so I remind him occasionally. Oops – that turned in to the long version. Sorry!
So, results thus far? Well our 4.5 yr old does NOT have Coeliacs! yay.
And it turns out, that after a term of not being very kind to myself and eating whatever the bloody hell I could get my hands on – not only am I carrying a little sugar belly around with me (I’m not even looking at my thighs these days tbh) but also all of my iron levels and vitamin B and all the rest have gone to shite again. Which makes sense as I am dragging myself round like an old lady at the moment.
As if I didn’t need any more motivation to get back on track. It’s a good reminder that I was doing what I was doing for a purpose – not just to torture myself – and that eating this way does actually have a physical effect. Not just the invisible gut healing stuff that seemed negligible in terms of how I felt.
So – Good news about the littlest lad and good motivation for me. Things I am grateful for.
I wish I could say that my experiment had been a solid 200 days of avoiding food that damaged my gut and that I have been doing Yoga and getting mindful daily and all that good stuff. Oh well. I have 165 days left to try.
This term my goal is to get back on track – and I feel like because we are heading back up to summer it will be easier to maintain some focus.
That is once I get some sleep and can actually function like human being. I did NOT sleep last night. I woke up hours before the alarm for boot-camp. I spent most of the night thinking about work and what I needed to do when I eventually got there. And of course it was a fine day. I have a lot to do – don’t we all – and didn’t get it all done today (tell ‘er she’s dreaming!) but am back on track.
And there you go, back to school, back to work, back to sugar-free – back to routine. Time to lose this sugar belly and focus on some long-term goals (swim suits and short shorts in Australia for xmas for one thing!).
I tell you what I am enjoying – it’s a bit drippy and the GD will enjoy mocking me I am sure – but I was reading something random online and they mentioned an app called ‘Gratitude!’. Ha ha – I can already hear him groaning. It is simply a little digi diary for your phone or whatever that reminds you at regular intervals just to stop and record what you are grateful for. I’m only 4 days in and of course it doesn’t feel like a chore yet (I have the attention span of a toddler though so it’ll be interesting to see if I’m still going in a month). Practicing gratitude has got to be good for me eh. Even if it is just another exuse to play with my phone ha ha
Yes, it’s been ten days since my last post – partly because I’ve been avoiding you and partly because it’s been school holidays and I just kinda let everything slide…
So, how to begin – to catch you up or just fill in the gaps? Well you don’t need the minutiae of my days and frankly they are only interesting to me and mine – you know what school holidays with bored kids are like – you swing from moments of hysterical joy (oh my god the zoo for the third time I’m SO EXCITED! We have zoo passes – they are seriously the best xmas gift ever) to moments of pure hell (OH MY GOD WHY ARE WE AT THE ZOO AGAIN?!). The kids are randomly best friends and mortal enemies and those of us that normally work but have the pleasure of being at home with our little cherubs begin to remember and appreciate why we work in the first place.
The middle of the year holidays are extra special in our house because of all the birthdays. Mine, my Stepdad’s, my Mums and my eldest son (Mum and T are on the same day). This means that the grumpy Dutchman is extra grumpy and stressed because of the gift buying, the family time is extra intense and at some point I have to plan and run a birthday event for the child. Also this time round the Aussie Dutchies are here so it’s been cool to meet my youngest niece and hang with them briefly. Suffice to say that though I don’t tend to feel ‘rested’ at the end of the winter break.
Anyway – why have I been avoiding you? Did you notice that? Well. You know how I’m a stubborn biatch and I have been struggling with the sugar and shite? But really proud that I had managed to not drink? Sooooooo. This is awkward.
I’m just gonna come out and say it. I had a glass of wine (or two) on my birthday. Because it was MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY damnit and I was feeling old. I know. I know. But the plan that I had to go to a beach with the GD and the dog to watch the sunset didn’t pan out because I spent so long on the motorway driving home from dropping the lads off to be babysat. And there is less sugar in red wine that birthday cake. And all sorts of other bloody justifications. And because wine is so damned good.
I spent all day thinking about it. Swinging wildly between NO because I didn’t want to break my record and YES because it’s MY BIRTHDAY. I chose yes.
It was very nice to be out with the GD on an actual date (thanks Mum) just hanging out with each-other. We managed to not talk about the kids for ages. I was managing to keep the GD interested in me and not the bookshelf behind me (only just). So I had a grown up glass of wine and it was lovely.
And then I woke up in the morning and felt terrible. Not only did I have a headache from the wine that I’m not used to but I just felt so disappointed that I had broken the record. That I had let it go after 7 months of abstaining. And how was I going to blog about it!? The horror. I whinged to the GD and my bff and both told me to pull my head in; reminded me that I’m not an alcoholic and that the not-drinking was self imposed (that I’d broken every other self-imposed rule) and that I was a grown up who could celebrate her birthday like a bloody grown up. That was me told. So I stayed in bed watching Grace and Frankie until lunchtime (the kids were at Mums after all) and tried to get over myself.
I still feel a wee bit disappointed. I won’t be able to proudly boast ‘not for the whole YEAR’ now and sit back all smug when people look AMAZED at my fortitude but I am learning to live with it. Ha ha what a dick.
The holidays have been great though for family time and outdoorsy pursuits. I had a good go at being sugar-free for the first week and was dealing with the headaches and loading up on lots of veges like a good girl but tbh we knew that was going to go out the window for my birthday didn’t we? Am back on that wagon now though. As of tomorrow. I promise. Obvs no more wine too. I managed to go to school and get some much-needed marking done in between hanging with lads, and I have been getting my 10 – 12,000 steps in most days.
I still don’t feel that prepared for school though. I have that sick feeling in my stomach thinking about it. But that’s normal right? The plan is to food shop tomorrow for all the good stuff. To plan my lessons for the first three days of the week and to pack my lunches so I’m prepared for the sugar cravings.
Well laid plans. Here are some holiday pics,
I am sitting on the couch in the lounge while the little Dutchmen are in the dining room making birthday cards for me – that I had to text their father to get them to make because I knew he wouldn’t remember otherwise. It’s my birthday tomorrow. This is one of our rituals. The GD forgets stuff (read EVERYTHING) and I remind him and generally I have a pretty great bday as long as he sticks to the list and evening entertainment demands.
Normally my birthday is something I look forward to – after all I will take any excuse for a new piece of jewelry or great shoes – even if I have to drive the GD to the shop, walk him to the counter and hand him MY card to pay for them (I think I’ve mentioned before that the man doesn’t like spending money). It’s an excuse to see friends, hang with family and maybe get a babysitter for the night and spend time with my husband.
And the number hasn’t meant much in the past – after all – it’s about how you FEEL eh? EH? You’re only as young as the woman you feel. Or if you are not being a sexist old man in an age-inappropriate relationship – ‘It’s not how OLD you are – it’s HOW you are old’.
I’ve always felt like I was in my early twenties. Really and truly. It doesn’t suck as much in my thirties being 20 in my head – after all I have the income and impulse control to live more to the ideal in my head than I did in my actual twenties. And all that stuff is true I think about you appreciating your body and getting some perspective as to your worth – my self-esteem is double what is was in my twenties which is ironic because it was SO tied up in my weight when I was young and I DEF weigh more now (‘cos I’m a grown up who MADE PEOPLE WITH MY BODY and that is pretty fucking amazing). But I still get excited about stuff that I suspect is aimed at the yoof’.
I suspect – as I cruise undercut hair styles on the interwebs, change my nose stud out for a ring and wear my big black boots with giant coats in this colder weather – that I may be subconsciously rebelling just a little bit against the number that is looming on the horizon. Maybe?
I don’t know what it is about this birthday but it feels MUCH much closer to 40. And I don’t feel anywhere near close to 40 in my head. 40 year olds have mortgages, and sensible cars/shoes/haircuts and wear more beige than me. They don’t have tattoos or listen to Kendrick Lamar or embarrass their kids regularly with their outfits for work. Or do they? Am I the new nearly 40? Is my GD – the beer drinking, in a garage band, watching Christopher Hitchens obsessively on his iPhone while he huddles out the back in the cold smoking the new nearly 40 too?
Or – and this is more likely of course – has this always been what 40 is, but because I was young and dumb I THOUGHT it meant really old and/or boring.
This is rhetorical of course. I am going to be 37 tomorrow. Evidently this IS what someone who is nearly 40 is like. (I can hear you scoffing but 37 is significantly closer to 40 than 35 is) Nevertheless, this is only a problem in my head. The majority of my friends are over 40 and they are an interesting, stylish and damned cool bunch of women – what’s more they listen to me drivel on about feeling old without smacking me in the head and I appreciate this greatly because most of them could flatten me with one hit.
So, while I sit here with my nostril all swollen from forcing a piece of metal through it, with the front of my head pounding because I am on my third day of sugar withdrawal (yes I have been thinking about birthday cake and I don’t know what I have decided yet) and the sound of my still awake and highly excited children splashing water all over the bathroom as they play Lego in the sink (after being asked not to of course because they are SO obedient), I am feeling old.
But I am excited. Mostly because I am shallow and I am going halves with the GD in a really cool NZ designed necklace for my birthday (I managed to sell a bunch of shoes and clothes to get my half of the money – out with the old and unworn and in with the new!), I am going to see Magic Mike XXL with a couple of grrlfriends and then lunch AND thanks to my mum taking the little horrors for the night – I actually get to go out somewhere with my grumpy old man! Yay!
And I still want an undercut.
It’s the first official day of the holidays. I have been telling myself that I will quit sugar again properly once the holidays came, when I had time to go through the withdrawal shit all over again and could lie around being in pain (because it does suck that bad for the first week).
Also, I am SUPER tired, my period just started and I spent the day at school marking lacklustre work that does not AT ALL represent the enthusiasm that the class showed when they were actually in front of me.
My tummy hurts, my back hurts and my head is starting to hurt. I have spent all day replacing sugar with carrots and potatoes. No really – at 3pm the slump kicked in and I was following my eldest boy around in a daze (he came to school with me – my children NEVER stop talking – seriously) and all I could think about was how bad it was that I couldn’t go get a quick fix and then I remembered that I knew about one GF fish and chips place in Mt Eden – hot chips heaven. Scratched the itch! (My friend has given up sugar successfully using the Potatoes not Prozac plan and when you have a read through it makes sense – if you are thinking about it and Sarah Wilson and her bright shiny following don’t appeal check it out here www.radiantrecovery.com some good reading.)
So far I feel good – I have a cup of white tea in front of me instead of choccie biscuits and the sugar cravings are real but I feel in control of them. I spent a lovely day hanging with my eldest – me marking and him taking the dog on adventures round the school, him watching endless Minecraft videos until I wouldn’t let him anymore and generally being 5 days away from eight and full of energy and excitement for his birthday. I made a really yummy dinner (potatoes featured heavily) and I have found the best new show to watch on Netflix – have you seen Grace and Frankie? It is so good. Lots of feels.
Anyhoo – I am buggered and my tea is getting cold so I’m off to bed. Day two tomorrow. Feeling positive peeps!
We made it to the end of term! I know I disappeared for a minute there this week but I was trying to stay sane whilst keeping everything I needed to remember in my head at the same time – no room for superfluous thoughts or word usage.
As we crawled closer and closer to 3.20 this afternoon I could feel myself slowly giving up on all fronts. Gut-healing restrictions all GONE, will to get out of bed in the morning for boot camp GONE and capacity for original thought GONE. Long blacks with cold milk – takeaway – have become my best friend. Whittakers chocolate my secret lover. Boot camp my arch nemesis. The fitbit has been an experiment in sadism. And yet I have been a chipper, chatty poppet.
My poor office mate has had to put up with me babbling away like a beauty pageant contestant in her ear all week – all sunshine no substance. That’ll be all the sugar I reckon! I also have a big, round, sugar belly.
And I have been thinking about wine. The photo at the top gave you pause eh? Especially if you’ve spoken to me recently and heard me babbling about how the only things I have managed to stay off were gluten and alcohol (that’s my stubborn streak). And the photo is of the mantelpiece in the music lounge yes.
I have been thinking about wine this week. Red wine. The wonderful kick in the back of the throat that a good(?) red wine gives when it hits it for the first time. The satisfaction of cracking the seal on the twist top (ahh so classy). The ‘legs’ on the side of the glass when you swirl it. Fuck me this mamabear loves wine. And it’s my birthday next week – surely I’ve been saying to myself, surely I could have a glass for my birthday? after all I won’t be (insert number dangerously close to 40 here) ever again! So the seed has been planted. But I’m a stubborn fucking biatch. Look again;
That’s right ‘alcohol fucking removed’. Whaaaaaaaaa?
I was driving home after ringing a million homes to find out why half of my cohort was not at school. I have been hearing variations on ‘Oh I’m sorry Ms Dean but my daughter is on holiday already in samoa/america/hamiltron and will not be returning until next term now’ all week now (apparently the school term means nothing and the credits she might have gotten today in the Maths assessment can go to hell because cheap fares and a teenager free house is more important THAN YOUR CHILDS EDUCATION thank you very much).
I digress. Where was I? I was driving home and I needed/wanted/craved/could think of nothing but Wine. And then suddenly Eureka! They are always trying to con pregnant women in to ‘alcohol free wine’. They wouldn’t make pregnant women drink stuff that tastes NOT like wine and call it wine would they?
I stopped at Glengarry’s and went and asked the friendly wine lady if they had a decent non-alcoholic wine that actually tasted like wine. And then without even thinking I LIED and said it was for my pregnant friend coming round for dinner. What the fuck?! Why did I lie? Obviously I am ashamed of my teetotaler status. And I want the strangers in the wine shop to like me? Because I care so much. Because….. I think that’s a whole other blog post. Jebus.
What was the ‘wine’ like you ask? Hmmm. I can’t say it didn’t taste like wine. But it did taste distinctly like sour juice. Which I guess is what wine is – except the good stuff has the alcohol and it makes your teeth tingle so good.
I have had one glass and it wasn’t awful. I will probs not buy it again deliberately but it’s like the whole gf thing – you have to forget what ‘real’ pasta tastes like before you have gf ‘pasta’ or it will be bloody terrible. I haven’t forgotten yet what real wine tastes like. I will just have to find another way to scratch the super-tired-at-the-end-of-term-mama-needs-a-treat itch.
Tomorrow I sleep in – School Holidays woo-fucking-hoo!!