How wonderful it would be to be too busy to die! But I am not proposing to talk of death. But rather aging. You see, tomorrow is mah birfday.

Last weekend I had a total meltdown over it. It was not the meltdown that I am now closer to 40 than 35, but rather the pressure I have on myself to mark the occasion or celebrate it. The kids are with their father and his family in NSW and I am thrilled for them. It is their cousin’s 18th birthday and also their Grandad’s birthday whilst they are there. But it does mean they will miss my birthday. MIML™ is currently on nights- a week of working 10pm til 7am starting last night, so the original plan of heading away for the weekend was blown to shreds.

And then it struck me. Most of my good friends live interstate of overseas. We keep in touch online or by SMS or the occasional phone call, but it is not the same as having them over for tea and birthday cake or a celebratory Gin-dependence Day cocktail!To say I lost it last Sunday would be an understatement. But I worked through things. MIML™ and I plan to head away for a night in a couple of weeks. At the end of the month the kids and I will do something to mark my birthday.

I’m not actually looking for presents either. I still can’t think of things I want when MIML™ or the kids ask. Yes, there are things I would like, but I can also live without them.

So tomorrow will be quiet. MIML™ will sleep until at least the early afternoon. I will research raised garden beds and work out the best way of putting some in the back yard. I might even do some blogging, catching up on my 101 in 1001 days reports! We will head out to dinner, probably at our favourite restaurant!

But I am getting newer. My thinking has changed so much in the last few years. I like the person I am and the person I am becoming. I am renewing all the time. And it is only through aging that this is happening.

Oh and finally…

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I will try and have cake tomorrow too!

Yes, I was apprehensive and did what I tend to do when I get anxious, arrived early! The school had changed dramatically! Of course the first thing I saw when I arrived was the long jump pit, bringing back some pretty ghastly memories! I wandered around for a bit and found where we were meeting, still rather early!

Finally people arrived! We only had a small group at the school part of the reunion. Some good friends from school whom I hadn’t seen in years. Others who I had hadn’t necessarily thought much about in the last 20 years, but still seeing them again provoked memories. Of the people at the school, one of the general feelings was that our school days hadn’t always been the best. Sarah summed it up well when she pointed out we were all dealing with adolescence at the time too and that possibly clouded judgements.

I hadn’t actually thought of this. In my last post I commented on how obnoxious I was at school. Through comments on the blog and comments from people yesterday, apparently I wasn’t that obnoxious. Perhaps it was my views of adolescence or my consequences of my upbringing that formed these thoughts. I still have trouble liking the me as a teenager, recognising the cognitive changes I have made over the last few years.

I’m glad I made the effort to come down. I’m really glad I made the effort to go out afterwards with other people to the Geebung Hotel. Here there were more friends. People I did not recognise and people I remembered little of. Not necessarily in my circle at school, but great people. At the end of it I heard stories from them about their recollections of things that had happened. Things I had no idea about! Stories of peer pressure and rebellion. Stories of caring and concern for others. People I wish I was closer to then and now.

Throughout the day there were questions of me, my life then, in-between and now. People who I have caught up with over Facebook who have followed my ups and downs. People who have recognised my struggles and strength. It was lovely to receive this affirmation.

I took a few photos and will upload them to flickr when I get home. Home. Where my heart is. Questions from people about moving away and returning to Melbourne. Will I return? That is a tough one. I miss aspects of Melbourne. I loved seeing Autumn leaves and driving in fog this morning. I loved driving down streets I remember from my childhood. I loved visiting shopping centres and shops we don’t have up north.

But I wouldn’t be returning to relive my past. I wouldn’t be returning to send my children to the school I went to (it is now co-ed parallel education in years 10-12 with a boys campus for Prep-9). The people I caught up with, on the whole, no longer live near where they grew up. They may have moved shorter distances than I have, but there has been movement. Even those that are still in the same area have moved. We all have.

So thank-you to those who braved coming. It was a small group, but it was a great group. We all said that next reunion we wanted off site. And we wanted more people there. We want to know what people are doing and see them. To be together as a community again, perhaps only for a couple of hours, but to show that we are all lovely people who were shaped by their schooling. The resilience we had to learn at school has done us well for the future. Not ideal at the time, but it was what it was.

My former school organises reunions every 5 years. I think I’ve been to them all, even though I have lived interstate for them all. When I saw the date for this one late last year I pencilled it in my diary (or fingered it into my iPhone more to the point!) and didn’t think much more about it. Then the note came. I replied on the last day, even though a schoolmate who had organised a facebook page for the event had a reply from me as soon as I was invited. I just assumed I would go.

A few weeks ago I booked flights- red eye flight this morning changing in Sydney. Cheaper than the direct flight. Bizarre, I know. I booked a hire car and started organising the kids.

Then my anxiety kicked in. On Tuesday I had a total meltdown. You see, my school days weren’t necessarily the best days of my life. I didn’t have many friends. I was obnoxious really. I thought I was so much better than I was. I took the high moral ground on so many issues and alienated so many of my peers. Looking back I can see why. Towards the end of my school days I had some more friends and we have kept in touch.

So why am I going? That is something I have been wrestling with and still don’t have definitive answers. Yes, I want to see the place that is my old school. See if they have actually done up the music rooms like they promised 20 years ago. See the ‘new’ classrooms that my cohort experienced- the Prep/Year 1 classrooms in 1979 and the year 7 centre in 1985. So new to us! See if the Emma B Cook Centre is still as modern as it was 25 years ago. See if the Junior School Gym still has those ghastly ropes we had to try and climb in PE.

Then there are the people. Thankfully I think most of the teachers have moved on or retired! As for my cohort… well I described it to someone as a social experiment- have we changed in 20 years? I remember at the 10 year reunion people still navigated to the friendship groups from school. I think trough Facebook though some of these distinctions have broken down. Whereas there are some girls I wouldn’t have normally kept in touch with, now I see photos of their kids and read about their struggles and triumphs.

Then there is me. I have changed so much from the girl who left school almost 20 years ago. We were asked to fill in a small biography for the booklet going with the reunion tomorrow. I didn’t really know what to say. How do you say, I’m not the person who went to school with you? I would never have dreamed at school of getting a tattoo or having an upper ear piercing, or riding a motorbike, or getting divorced.

So I am anxious for tomorrow. Unsure of what it will bring. I know a few people who are going and some of my good friends are apologies. I remember the teasing and bullying I experienced at school, but 20+ years on, I can’t remember who did it (with a couple of exceptions!).

I am going with an open mind. I suspect part of it is facing the demons of my past and realising that my parents sacrificed a lot to send me to a prestigious school. And I did receive a decent education.  I want to remember the good things, even if they are few and far between in my mind at present. Is there nosiness? Maybe. But I want to go and be in the present. Be me today, shaped by my past but not ruled by it.

I shall report back afterwards…

I think 2010 is a little different. For the last week or so I have been reflecting on what has changed in my life and my outlook. I have been examining my philosophies on food and body image. I have been trying to work out what has actually changed, how it has changed and why it has changed. And I have drawn some blanks along the way too!

I have seen how my philosophy of body and the related philosophies of food and movement have changed in dramatic ways. It is not everything in moderation, nor don’t eat this, nor only eat that. It is more a what effect will putting this in my body have and what will my body have to say about it. I suppose taking note of my body and its signals and not creating binaries when it comes to food (good or bad etc) has helped.

So tonight we had slow cooked roast pork with potato gratin, braised cabbage and onion, cider and mustard gravy. And it was delicious! I had smaller portions than I might have had in the past. I have plenty of meat left over and I plan to use it in sandwiches and salads this week. I enjoyed it immensely. I enjoyed the cooking of it and the taste of it all. The old me would have said ‘Shit, think about all those calories and let’s have another scoop of potatoes!’ The new me enjoyed the amount I had and I feel I practised restraint.

Another of my old thinkings was ‘everyday v special’ foods. Putting certain foods on a pedestal and thinking you have to deserve them is not helpful either! It also creates an idea of food being a reward- if it’s someone’s birthday then have a slice of cake because it isn’t their birthday every day. Now I think about whether I want a slice of cake and why I want a slice of cake.

But it is not all if you want it, have it either! I think part of it is I examine why I want it. I had a shocked of a day last Monday. One thing after another. At 5pm when I was heading home I contemplated going through a drive through, or calling at the shops to get a block of chocolate and then I thought about my feelings. I was feeling angry. I was feeling helpless. I was feeling tired. I was feeling let down. I wasn’t feeling hungry. I ended up going to the gym.

So no resolutions as such, but perhaps some short term goals. Apart from listening to my body more, I am trying to be more active. I, like so many others it seems, have jumped on the C25K bandwagon. I have finished week one and although I have always said I hated running, I found it not too bad, perhaps even enjoyable! I know I will complete the programme, however I also know it might take longer than the 9 weeks, especially as I am having wrist surgery in a few weeks. (But that is for another post!)

I am also trying to lead a less cluttered lifestyle. I am finding this is more than a less cluttered environment, but again more a philosophy. I have always been busy, but I suspect a lot of my business has been procrastination. So actually achieving things and measuring these achievements has been helping.

The house is getting a lot less cluttered too. I have had a major spring/summer/wet season clean! I feel comfortable having people over- even calling in unexpectedly. Today it was my wardrobe’s turn! 5 large glad bags of clothes I either don’t wear or can’t wear. Clothes that are too big and too small. Clothes that I haven’t worn in a while. Clothes that even if/when my body shape changes I won’t want to wear as they have been hanging there for so long! 3 dresses I bought on eBay and have never worn. The dress I wore 8.5 months pregnant to my ex-sister-in-law’s wedding. And finally the large box of baby clothes.

I remember wishing my mother had held onto some of my favourite baby clothes and I always thought I would do that. But it is just clutter. So the box of smocked dresses and rompers, the overalls Immy wore when she took her first steps, the bright jumper Jasper loved- all gone! They are just items– transient objects that take up space. Items other people might be able to use.

It was the kitchen cupboard’s turn last week. I rearranged them and threw out the plastic containers without lids, got rid of glasses I never use. Put the good dinner set in a top cupboard and will even think about using it more. Got rid of all the cockroach shit!

All changes. Patterns of behaviour that are different to this time last year. Patterns that are ever evolving and changing. Patterns that are helping me. Patterns that are helping those around me. By changing my behaviours I see impacts in others- a ripple effect. Interesting that!

I have had an extremely stressful week. And the stress will continue until at least Thursday. Then we will discover if our plans to go to South Africa in December can come to fruition or if MIML™ needs to go alone. But part of the process has involved digging up old behaviours (not necessarily mine) and a lot of anger and frustration.

And I have been a little edgy. Well perhaps a lot edgy. And behaviours of mine have come back to haunt me. And MIML™ told me he needed some space, which I took as rejection as that is what I have been programmed to do. Even though I knew it wasn’t rejection, I could see MIML™ stepping back. And I was angry. And sad. And frustrated. And instead of just giving him space, I did some more smothering, as I am want to do from time to time.

But today we briefly caught up for lunch. And I expressed some of my feelings and he told me where I did not necessarily have it 100%. And it was brief.

But I came away feeling a lot less stressed. And I was trying to work out why. Then this evening it came to me. Yes, MIML™ needs space, but at the same time he can see that I need space. I need to realise that there are these tough things that are happening, but I can deal with them, and whilst friends will always be there, they can’t do it for me. And no amount of hugs or cups of tea or lazing around faffing on the net is going to make any of it go away.

Support can come in so many ways and one of the main ways MIML™ has supported me is to realise that he can’t be drawn into my dramas that he is on the edge of. It is better for him to stay on the edge  and be there to pull me out, rather than jump in with me and have two über stressed out people.

I think that’s all I wanted to say. Well say on here anyway! Except, MIML™ is da bomb! <3!

When I started I didn’t know how long I would last. There have been a couple of days when I have just taken a photo with minutes to spare and there are several photos that were taken for the sake of having a photo taken.

They say a picture tells a thousand words and that can be the case. When I look through all my twitter365 photos I can remember the day and what happened or how I was feeling. It is like a visual diary. But it is also more than that. I has developed my sense of self. I have usually hated having my photo taken. I still look at some of my photos and all I see are my tuck-shop arms or multiple chins. And there have been some I have refused to put up!

But today I was quite daring! It is MIML™s birthday. And apart from the fact that we have reached that stage in our relationship where we can give a leaf blower/vac/mulcher (that can be used as a rocket apparently!) and a kettle that determines the correct water temperature for the kind of tea you are wanting to brew, I wrapped myself up for him! In 5 metres of red organza! And I allowed a photo to be taken. And I put it up online, with some of my skin showing!

And I love the photo! MIML™ has it as his desktop pic! It made both of us giggle. And it made me realise that as I have been told so many times before, sexy is a state of mind and when two people care for each other the way MIML™ and I do it can be the small presents or unexpected ones that cause some mirth!

Happy Birthday gorgeous Man in My Life™! <3!

Then this year my weight has steadily crept up. If I am being honest, if I had lost as much weight as I have found since January I would be a happy camper indeed and would have reached a few of my mini goals.

Don’t get me wrong, I have been going hard at it at the gym. 3-4 times a week I visit doing at least an hour of weights with MIML™ on a Tuesday, half an hour of weights/circuit on a Thursday, an hour of boxing with MIML™ on Friday and an hour and a half class of circuit/boxing on Saturday.

In Hong Kong I invested in a Polar Heart Rate Monitor and have been using this at the gym all the time. And it would tell you that most weeks I burn over 2000 calories.

And my body has changed. Even through the fat I can see muscles and I can definitely feel them! My stamina is increasing. And I enjoy the exercise.

But my eating is another story. I had a bit of a meltdown on Saturday when I had a mental look back through what I had eaten- KFC, creamy laksa, Neenish Tarts, chocolate, chips, pie, cake and I could go on.

My anxiety levels on Saturday were so high that I was even scared to eat. I knew I wanted to eat (I was hungry) but didn’t know what to eat. Part of me wanted the comfort of the fat sliding down my throat, yet another part of me realised that the scales (and to a lesser extent my clothing) were saying that enough was enough.

Then I had another panic attack at the gym and couldn’t do the boxing class. I couldn’t face it. Part of it was extreme tiredness. Part of it was a sugar thing (I hadn’t eaten) and I just felt like crap. MIML™ came straight over after gym and we chatted. And he listened. And he didn’t judge. And he offered the most practical advice and helped me find solutions.

And we went and grabbed a smoked salmon and salad bagel and went out to have a steak for dinner (mine with baked spud!) and I even skipped dessert- well I did have a spoon and tried MIML™s Toblerone gelato!

And yesterday I made an omelette for breakfast with spinach and fetta in it. And I went to the market with MIML™ and didn’t have a samosa. Or any cake. Or a pork bun. Or anything else except for a coffee. And lunch and dinner were sensible choices. And last night I made up a large tub of bircher muesli and cut up a large bowl of fruit salad.

And this morning I got up earlier and had breakfast. And had a cup of tea. And didn’t rush. So I organised a massage for this evening which was the most sublime torture I have had in a long time! But a heap of the tension and tightness in my muscles has dissipated.

And I have looked at food as comfort. I actually started a blog post on the subject a few weeks ago and it is sitting in my drafts box. The kids had had a rough afternoon on the bus so I made a banana custard for dessert. And I never make dessert unless we have visitors. But they needed comfort. And I equated comfort with food and thus perpetuated this to another generation. Well kind of. Except I have discovered that I am doing this.

I helped out at a breastfeeding education class a few weeks back. One of the things we look at in the class is the role of dads in breastfeeding. A lot of women report they feel pressure to give their baby artificial food because it means that Dad can feed the baby. One of the messages was that we have to remember that comfort can be given in many more ways than with food.

And now I am rambling! But I am trying to get my eating back on track. I did not enjoy the way I felt on Saturday afternoon. I know that part of anxiety disorder means that panic attacks will happen and I will have anxious periods, but I need to also recognise that I can do my bit to help alleviate the frequency of these events. I can exercise and I can eat properly and I can practice CBT.

And I can take part in the latest Bloggest Loser challenge. I am not setting out to win the competition or to even weigh myself each week, but I am changing the way I eat and attempting to change my lifestyle.

I haven’t done a Lady Macbeth or anything and done anything awful to feel guilty about, but there is a bit of stressful stuff happening at the moment.

I found it funny (sort of!) on Facebook to see people jump to all sorts of conclusions from a status update (it was about remembering that even along the darkest paths one finds the most beautiful flowers) and then my reaction to it has possibly prompted more conclusions to be drawn!

But now I have decided to try and focus on the good things that are happening, because when I look at it, there are lots of positive things happening to me and those around me.

• The gorgeous MIML™ passed his exam! This is a huge step to him gaining residency and further on citizenship. There is a Part B exam which he will need to sit in the next 12-18 months, but the Part A exam has been passed! Phew!
• MIML™ and I went to Melbourne for a few days. It was lovely catching up with friends and family and showing MIML™ where I grew up. Must say however that staying at the Victoria Hotel was an experience that allowed us to use real estate-esque descriptions- quaint and cozy with some original fixtures in a prime location!
• Immy got on the ‘Honour List’ for Semester 1 at school with her academic results. This is the top 5 kids in the class or something. She has lots of smarts- not sure where she gets them from!
• Japs had some assessments done and he is doing great guns too! No problems with him! He is writing a novel- JK Rowling look out!
• Been doing some work in the garden and it is starting to look not that bad! Have some big plans too!
• The guppies and snails continue to breed! It is amazing how relaxing it is just gazing at them in their tank!
• The rats are getting a little friendlier! Daisy allows us to hold her now and Muffin even comes out when we are around. Small steps!
• Work is awesome and I love it! Immy was sick last week and they keep reinforcing that looking after my family was my major priority last week.
• Plans for our South Africa trip are coming on. Even if the kids passports don’t come through however by December, there is always next year to visit. And the year after, and the year after that.

So now I need to find a way of focussing on these positives and acknowledging there is this crappy stuff too that needs to be dealt with I don’t need to let it take over my life. Or at least my nights.

June Twitter365

Originally uploaded by fifikins

I have done 6 months or almost half the year! Taken a pic every day. Some days it has been easier than others, but I have persevered and I am proud of myself.

I think this is my favourite set so far, probably because of the wonderful memories of our trip!

Whoa! I know it is not that PC to actually admit it, but being a mother sucks. Well not all the time. The love and hugs and kisses and seeing your young ones accomplish things is awesome, but there are not so nice bits too.

And I am not taking dirty nappies or toilet training or being woken up at all hours of the night. Or even pre-pubescent attitudes from 11 year old girls. I am talking responsibility.

I grew up in a pretty strict household. There were rules and these were black and white. This was not necessarily a bad thing as long as you didn’t try and question things. What was said was the rules and there was hardly ever any movement. In many ways this was a pretty sheltered environment too. Whilst I was being protected from the evils of the world, I didn’t necessarily know they were there and what harm they could do, if any.

This has shaped me as a parent. I try and talk things through with my kids-

• What do you think might happen if I let you stay home all day by yourself?
• What might happen if I leave you at the shopping centre for 4 hours with your friends?
• Why does Mum have access to my chat logs on MSN? (I have never read them, but it is know that I can)
• Why can’t I put a photo of myself or my surname up on my MSN profile?
• Why doesn’t Mum pay the cleaners to tidy my room and not just clean it?

But not all parents are on the same page. Some of Miss 11s friends spend all day home alone in the holidays. Some wander shopping centres for hours on end. Some put all manner of stuff online. At least Miss 11 now knows what happens when she lets the cleaners in her room and she hasn’t tidied- no I am not going to ring and ask where your XYZ is!

But my greatest challenge is TV and movie viewing. And that is not just with Miss 11. Mr 8 argues about it too. You see, I won’t let my kids watch M rated movies or television programmes. That is a rule and they know that. And they argue it. And it is damn hard! Mr 8 has watched the first Indiana Jones movie over and over again. But the rest are rated M. And I have seen them and probably there is not a lot in there that is inappropriate for him, but the office of film and literature classification has deemed that they have an M rating.

This means:

The M category is recommended for mature audiences. A mature perspective is required to view this material. The impact of the content is moderate.

Mr 8 has friends who last year were taken to see the latest Indiana Jones movie, Batman and IronMan. He has friends who have been to Star Trek and numerous other films and they talk about it.

It is not helped that originally, many of these cartoons were aimed at kids and they are merchandised to young kids.

I saw Star Trek on Friday night and was blown away by it. It is the best film I have seen in ages. And I know that the Dr Who crazed Mr 8 would also be blown away by it. But it has an M rating. I’ve seen it and there are part of it that are a little scary maybe, but there is no more violence than you would see in any cartoon. There is no overtly sexual content and it is a fun movie. But I fear that by allowing him to see this film, it would open the floodgates. Miss 11 is definitely mature enough to see it in my eyes, but I can’t really take her and not him.

So I find myself being black and white. M rating, nope you can’t see it yet.

Yes there is violence on telly especially in cartoons, however the animation helps the fantasy aspect of the programme/film.

Mr 8 and I went and saw Dragonball during the week whilst Miss 11 was on camp. I thought it was a crap film, but Mr 8 enjoyed it. Except for the mushy bits. A friend told me her 9yo daughter saw Race to Witch Mountain and thought it was really scary. Yet both of these have PG ratings. And there are some adult films that are rated PG- 27 Dresses comes to mind. Not that appropriate for an 11yo, but nothing overtly wrong with it either.

I am not sure when I will change my views. Perhaps we do need to look at censorship and divide the PG category so that we can recognise that parental guidance means different things for 5 year olds compared to 12/13 year olds.

Whatever the answer I will remain the mean mother, the one who says no to her kids and wants them to stay young for as long as possible. Perhaps I am turning into my parents. But there is such a fine line and as a mother this is one of my hardest responsibilities and dilemmas. And it sucks.

(Edit: Thanks pixel8ted for pointing out the errors- I have found a few spelling/typing booboos which I have changed. My brain is pretty fuzzy from the meds I’m on at present, please forgive my other errors everyone!)