Todays feelings got me like *eats all of the food*.
Tomorrow I will be all like *oh my god I need to eat ALL of the salad*.
Swings and roundabouts folks.
Ok I lost a day and I didn’t do Spin on Wednesday morning, I actually did it on Thursday. And you know, I didn’t die. It was bloody hard though. I expected it to be full of lithe, blonde, spinning queens, but I was pleasantly surprised to find myself in a room with three other women (8 bikes but not a full class) and they were to be expected;. there was muscly, superfit-never-misses-a-class never-actually-had-any-bodyfat-in-her-life 50-year-old, young blonde trying-out-this-fitness-thing and not really sure why she got up and when will it end, there was tattooed, mid 20’s, pink hair, big boobs, straight edge fitness grrl. Then there was me; sort of old, sort of tired, moderately tattooed (young tattooed girl didn’t like that) and barely keeping up. The instructor remembered me from three years ago when I used to go to their gym religiously and she was kind to me thank god.
30 minutes later I got off the bike shaky and dripping with sweat but it felt great and I am going back tomorrow! Ha ha. I may just die yet.
Today was the youngest childs last day of daycare. He is officially going to start Primary school on Monday. No more baby boy. I have all sorts of feelings about this.
I celebrated (?) by getting my very first ‘playsuit/jumpsuit’ thing. I have avoided onesies and grown up playsuits like the plague but this one spoke to me – maybe it’s the drop crotch and my aging-white-girl need to be down with the kids…. Anyways it’s huge and I love it – it’s like wearing my bed outside – and teamed with my birkies and lonely hearts bra it is the ultimate over-grown toggler look. #manrepeller
The GD took some not very flattering pics for me. Happy Friday everyone!
Posting two nights in a row bitches. Small steps. Small goals.
I am the proud mother of a five-year old, an eight year old and the belly of a seven month pregnant woman. Alas I am not pregnant. Just round. Just in time for the holiday we have looming on the horizon in Aus.
We head to Australia this year to celebrate Xmas with the extended Dutchie clan (from Germany as well as Aus) and I am very much looking forward to seeing my Sis-in-laws again and all the wee cousins (some of whom were very little when I last saw them and now are nearly teenagers – fark!). I am looking forward to the HEAT and the beaches and generally hanging with my little family too with no work to interrupt us.
What I am just plain dreading is the summer clothing/swimsuit factor. Normally I love a good shorts/mini skirt + singlet combo but with the weight I have put on this year I am not feeling the look at all. It took me a while to even be a heat/summer type person – a whole lot of exercise in my early twenties and just plain growing up a bit and not giving as much of a shit about what people thought meant that I started showing more skin than just the gap between my jeans and ankles. In my teens I wore black jeans, long skirts, tights – general cover up and sweat to death type stuff – but it was the 90’s and we were ‘alternative’ – we could look as ridiculous as we wanted to and people just thought we were nuts anyway.
Yup that’s me in summer wearing a full length pink, long-sleeved top/dress thing over jeans with a leopard print fur jacket. Because, you know, pretending that you are not melting simply because you don’t wanna show any skin is really cool.
Obviously I didn’t die of heat stroke. But it was close.
Small steps – tomorrow I am doing a spin class to see if I can still do it. It’s been over a year since I did Spin so I reckon I might die. Stay tuned!
Well. It’s official. I have two school age children. This time 5 years ago I was settling into a cocoon on the couch with my newborn and my GD hovering nearby. It was so much easier with the second one (the breastfeeding and not thinking we were going to drop him or anything) and we came straight home from the hospital all ready to settle in to being a two child family. Someone had at some point told me that two was easier than one because they entertain each other or some shit. They were lying of course. I wish I could remember who it was…
Anyway, my youngest son is now officially 5. I won’t lie and say it was all very breezy easy in this little household this morning. Mamabear was a bit ‘happy sad’ and had a little crazy smiling cry whenever I thought about my baby being a big boy now. He doesn’t start school yet – has to wait for the intake – but the school visits have been rubbing it in. I am now the mother of two school age children.
Which kinda changes my ‘selfie’ in my head. Somehow it feels that much older. I mean obviously I knew that eventually I would get to that point – but in my daydreams I go from having ‘togglers’ (the 5 yr old can’t say toddlers yet) to teenagers in one step. Rather than experience the slow decline I transform magically from vaguely-stylish-young-mum to eccentric-but-doesn’t-care older mum of teens – you know the ones – the ones with the house that all the kids hang out at, they dispense advice and feed them all and always have one or two of their kids mates staying for indefinite lengths of time.
I hadn’t thought about the ‘in-between years’ and the transition period from young to eccentric. Where all my cool pre-children-clothes are covered in sticky hand prints, my heels replaced with chucks for running after evil eight year olds and the laundry couch mocks me from the once safe haven of the TV lounge.
The good news is that I look around me and I see other women around about my age going through the same thing and they seem to be doing it ok. I’ve even met a couple of really cool women in the last few weeks and that gives me hope. I don’t need new friends – god knows I neglect my wonderful,patient friends enough already – I don’t need more people to be absent from; but obviously it can be done.