My Sliding Doors Moment.......

How do you see your future...?

I have never doubted in my mind that I would grow up, get married to a wonderful man, and have children. I never dreamt of city lights or whirlwind romance or fancy dates or expensive hotels. What I dreamt of was lazy Sunday mornings in the burbs, kicking a ball around on the over at the local park, and having BBQ's at our house with friends. I dreamt I'd be content. And I am.

There is so much out there at the moment that people buy into regarding the power of the mind. I agree to some degree. I certainly believe that the power of the mind can help you body heal quicker or sustain you for longer periods of time. I believe the way we see ourselves and our expectations of our own journey definitely impact on our end result. But I don't believe it's the be all and end all, the only influencing factor in our lifes. Obviously circumstances and experience have a great to do with shaping a persons perspective.

Somehow growing up, I didn't even envision myself as a healthy, sporty, active person. Clearly I forgot to add the into my dreams. I considered myself a drama and music girl, and not the sporty type, and convinced myself over my highschool years that I wasn't an active type of person. That I could only fit into one catagory and not both. It never dawned on my that I was imagining myself as overweight even in my 20s and 30s.

Which is not what I am to be. I have talked before about how I sought the assistance of hypnosis to help me amend this slight in my own minds eye. I have seen hypnosis work wonders for reformed smokers in my family and it occurred to me that it may just help me to. I wasn't looking for a magical answer to weight loss, I am certainly happy to put in the hard yards myself with my Michelle Bridges program. I just wanted to stop the constant battle in my mind about food and obsessing over it.

For those out there who don't understand this mentality, thats fine - you have probably never strayed outside of your healthy weight range because your mind is already on the right track. But for those of us who are carrying too much, you may know these thoughts well....

So, I've just eaten breakfast. What else is there? Mmmm! Raisin Toast, yes might have some of that too - I love raisin toast. Yummo! Better make a coffee to go with that, two sugars please. Yummo, those four pieces of raisin toast were DELICIOUS! That sugar has given me a taste for the sweets, what else is in the fridge? Ooooh! I might make a milo. 3 spoons and 2 extra for good luck. Yummo. Phew, I buggered. Might need to sit down for a bit and watch some TV. (TV turns on). Bored now. I wonder what I will have for lunch? Shit! There is nothing in the pantry/fridge that even appeals to me. Let me run through all the possibilities.......tuna. No. Ham, yes I'll have some now, but not for lunch. Bread? No. Salad. NO! Maybe I should go out and get something.

And so begins thought process of all the options I could possibly choose in town, then in Manuka, Kingston, Civic and maybe in Erindale or Belconnen! An obsession that consumes some people day in, day out. When will I eat next? What will it be? Anyone would think I've been living in a third world country.

I haven't updated you on my weight loss results from the Michelle Bridges round 2 program that finished at the end of August....I am thrilled to announce I lost 10 kgs in 12 weeks! Pat on the back to me. And then I put on two. It has been a tough month, but no excuse. So I returned to visit my hypnosis man, and we had an awesome chat that started with 'So Lauren, why have you come back to see me this time', and I replied with 'waaa waa waa waa waa'. That's how I sound why I cry, if you didn't realise.

We talked a fair bit about old habits sneaking back in. Because, as you know when you give up the darts, you no longer have them. But when you try and change a life times worth of habits regarding food, sometimes you need a little readjustment to your perspective. I had been feeling like I was pushing it all up hill, that there was no point to continue on, that I was a hopeless case. So we talked and talked and he helped me discover a really useful method of visualisation.

He asked me to imagine this time next year. September 2013. And if I changed nothing about my life and continued on this current path what did I see. I saw myself at least 10kg heavier. I saw depression, defeat, dissapointment. I was guilty. I hated myself for having lived another year in this cycle of destruction. I saw Lucy overweight too. I cried. I saw no hope for another child. He asked me to imagine further into the future, 5 years. September 2017. More depression, despair, great disappointment. Fatter than ever. Lazy. He asked me to look at myself in the mirror and tell him what I saw. I saw the saddest Lauren I have ever seen (imagined!). He asked me to move further into the future - 10 years. I saw a lady who aged so much more than the years that had passed. I saw me uncomfortable in my body. Resigned to a life of half arsed attemps, yo yo dieting and watching on while everyone else had fun. A sad lady who had wasted her 30s away.

And then we changed tactics. He asked me to tell him about the Lauren in September 2013 who did put changes in place. How does this girl look? Well, I was within my healthy weight range. I was smiling, my eyes were happy. My house was clean. I felt in control, organised. Proud. So proud. And intelligent, for chosing the direction I wanted in life. Five years? I had several children. I was active, all this business with an unhealthy relationship with food was behind me. It was no longer the endless struggle. It was forgotten. I started the day with time to myself before I had to become the mum, the colleague, the wife, the friend, the sister. Ten years ahead showed me planning an epic 40th birthday celebration. I looked youthful and attractive. I looked like I laughed alot and enjoyed my life. I was a good role model for my children.

Seems simple. Definitely simple, not necessarily easy. So using this info, he hypnotised me again and talked me through these two roads. The former road, of eating poorly, eating too much and eating for boredom instead of hunger resulted in an untidy me. My clothes didn't fit properly. My house and car were a mess. I looked greasy all the time, with a pizza face of pimples and everything felt like it was brown, white and orange. Darker. Like I hadn't opened the curtains and we constantly living without natural light. But this road was an easy downward slope - I could simple just keep rolling down it, getting sadder and sadder as I went. I honestly felt oppressed (still do now) when I think of that road.

The latter road was a rocky, hilly road of pot holes and speed bumps. It was the harder road for sure. But as I stood at the fork in the road and looked left to the drab darkness of old habits, then turned to look at the right side of the road going up this hill, all I could see in comparison was beautiful springtime colours. Blue skies, everything looked like it was in HD! The fresh green leaves in bud, vibrant colours everywhere. I could see it was the place I wanted to be. Everything had a place on this road. I felt organised and in control. I felt strong and capable, confident and attractive. It is the place I exist in now.

I suppose the reason that I wanted to share this with you today was that if you have something you aren't happy with in your life, maybe you should do the same exercise. Actually write down what your life will look like in 1, 5 and 10 years time if you keep going as you are, and then how it might look if you put some changes in place.

Hypnosis isn't a magic answer for me. I still need my will power, I need to make the right decisions that allow me to stay on the up road. I need to exercise to release all the weight I'm not going to carry anymore. Hypnosis won't do that for me. But I can say for the past couple of days since I saw him, I have felt more in control of my life than I have in 2 months. And let me tell you, that is a good feeling.

Do you remember when I wakeboarded?
http://waitingforthebellylaugh.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/truly-astonishing-week-part-2steve.html
I remember this feeling of endless determination, that I would achieve my goal of getting up that day, and it didn't matter how long it would take me. And that feeling of complete elation when I did get up - after ages of trying. That is how determined I am to release all this weight that simply doesn't need to be cramping my style anymore. I am just going to kick picking myself up as I get closer and closer to achieving my goals, and at each time I need to regroup I will celebrate how far I have come, and then begin again. It isn't an endless struggle for me. There is an end date. And I will reach it sooner than I realise.

And here I am a few weeks ago, almost 20kg less!

Here I am maxed out at my heaviest EVER!

“He who conquers others is strong, he who conquers himself is mighty”
-Lao Tsu

Ciao for now, 

LG - Life's Good!

A Stale Old Marriage

When you've been married for 15 years, you'll feel the same......

In the lead up to our wedding, I remember Greg coming home from work frustrated because his workmates were teasing him about entering into a commitment there could be no release from, that all the fun would end at the vows we would share, and that his balls would officially be hung from a chain around my neck from that point on. And he wasn't worried that this was the case, he was pissed off that no one was excited for us, or encouraging of our love and commitment to each other.

I felt the same. People would firstly comment on our youthful ages and how we should 'live a little first' before settling down. Then they would tell us the divorce stats for the year, focusing on those who got married early and how we would be doomed. And then they would tell us that we were just babies - we were rushing into something we hadn't properly considered. Jerks.

True, we got together when I was just 11 days shy of turning 20. Poor Greg! Hooking up with a girl just before her birthday! What do you get her!? What is the expectations of a new boyfriend! He was perfect. He turned up at my house (my mums house) with a beautiful bunch of flowers, a lovely card and I think we went out for dinner. We were already friends in the same group of mates, so moving into a relationship was going to do one of two things...either we would be happy together, or we would break up and cause our friendship group great drama! Lucky for our friends, and even more so for us, we were destined to be a love story. (Aaaaaaw - smiling coyly).

We knew very early into our relationship that we were right for each other. Not perfect, but certainly as good a match as one could expect. And romantically, we just loved each other more and more all the time. Sometimes I felt my heart would burst, as if I couldn't be more happy. But I could.  I just got luckier and luckier, the more I got to know Greg, the sweeter I realised he was and the deeper I felt. And he fell for me. I just love the thought that I know a secret Greg that no one else sees, that he is saving something special of himself just for me. Bliss. He told me he wanted me by his side forever and we got engaged just after my 21st birthday after dating for 15 months. He even surprised me with the most beautiful ring, which to this day I still find myself staring at in wonder.

Okay, so if I knew any 21 yr olds in this day and age getting engaged, I'd probably feel slightly alarmed too. Because at the ripe old age of 29 I certainly think 21 is so young! But you know what? Sometimes you just know. Greg and I have grown up together. We travelled overseas for the first time together (and both wished that we had an adult to look after us!), we bought our first house together, we have grieved together, laughed together, fought together and loved each other through it all. Each experience we have had just teaches us something new about each other.

But after being together for 9 years (married for 7 in October) it seems that people expect our relationship to have soured somewhat. Especially after children. Let me tell you, if you fight with your partner before you have had children, expect to do so even more after you add these little joys to your life! Greg and I have never been as irritable, tired, grumpy, insecure, and cranky as we have become since we had Lucy. It is a difficult adjustment when you introduce a third (very important) member to your little family unit. Both Greg and I share an all consuming love for Lucy that cannot be compared to what we share for each other. For us, we found each other, learnt to trust and respect and love each other, and have developed a life together that we both enjoy. For Lucy, she was create from that love Greg and I share (don't make me go into details), and we loved her instantly. We didn't need to get to know her before we realised we would jump in front of a bus for her without even thinking. We didn't have to trust her before we knew that she was our everything.

Before we had Lucy, I used to worry how I would feel not being the centre (or the only centre) of Greg's world anymore, if I would be jealous of the love he feels for our child. I don't worry about that anymore......because I'd be a hypocrite! For I love her more than life itself, and she is always going to be the centre of my world, with Greg. I don't love him any less, in fact watching him with Lucy I love him so much more. I love them differently.

And Greg is still my husband. My one and only. My darling. I have written before about making sure you maintain your relationship with your partner after children, because one day your children will grow up, and hopefully you will still have your marriage. I still consider his needs, as he does mine. We have to make more of an effort now to talk about things other than Lucy. We make decisions about Lucy together, with both opinions valued and respected. And of course we fight. More than ever before.

We were talking about different marriages at work a little while ago and a colleague was telling me it was his wedding anniversary. I congratulated him and asked him if they were planning on celebrating. He told me he wasn't really planning much, probably just pick up some wine and dessert and celebrate quietly at home once the kids went to sleep. I thought that was nice - but it led to a discussion on what marriage is like after years together, after kids and after generally just getting used to each other.

Some marriages function merely as a partnership in life, just getting on with the job of raising kids and the logistics of running to a schedule. Some marriages function without much attention spent on the partner, without attraction, without affection. Some marriages function without much conversation, taking separate holidays and enjoying different activities. Some husbands and wives feel that their partner has nothing to offer them anymore. Some marriages are one of simple convenience.

And some marriages are ones of ongoing support, awareness of the other and of making a conscious effort to maintain the fun, the love and the romance. I've seen these marriages. I want one just like it. I have one just like it. Because Greg and I know what we must do to stay connected to each other, in the easy and the tough times. I'm never going to see our relationship as one of convenience, but one of great fortune. I will always be grateful for him in my life, for finding him so early, for marrying him and growing up with him in our 20s. I will never feel like it will be okay to simply be housemates.

For us, sex is important (sorry honey, I said the S word!). Talking is important. Laughing is hugely important. And having a cuddle on the lounge after a long day is still important. Seeing each other play with Lucy is important. Helping each other is important. Respecting each others opinions and character is important. Having time away from each other sometimes is important too. And always putting our little family first is important.

Is your marriage going stale? Are you paying attention to each other or has it all become just about the kids? Or your work? Do something about it tonight. Take home some flowers (or some fishing gear). Cook a fancy meal as a treat. Crack open a bottle of wine and talk about anything other than the kids. Remind each other why you love them. Remember what it was you fell in love with in the first place. And have sex for gods sake! It will do wonders, I promise. And not just normal sex. But mix it up a little. Do something you haven't done before, in a room you haven't done it in, in clothes you haven't done it in. And prove to yourself and them that you can still surprise each other even after all these years.

Invest in your marriage - your kids should grow up seeing a healthy, loving relationship that they will aim to achieve one day themselves. Don't show them that is okay to simply co-exist.

I should be a sex therapist.

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Good!

I've been contemplating suicide

The most selfish act... or the bravest thing one could do?

DISCLAIMER: This blog is written from my heart, but this heart knows no depression. Sadness yes, depression no. So please understand I am speaking from a viewing platform and not the ledge of experience, I may get it wrong.

I've discussed suicide with a handful of people over the years. People who have been touched by suicide, people who have contemplated it for themselves, and people who have resented it from afar without direct exposure to it. I don't deliberately go out of my way to start these conversations with people ('so....would you kill yourself?') but in their many forms that have come to me. I have pondered death often actually, come to think of it.

Thoughts of my own death and that of Greg's come to me on a semi regular basis. I can't imagine what you are thinking right now. I'm not sick and twisted, honestly. But I do have flashes of awfulness happening fairly frequently. Example required! Hmmm, alright. Greg went to snow a few weekends ago and Lucy and I stayed home. About 2 hours after he left I heard a car pull up outside our house, and two car doors closed. And instantly my hair stands on end and I feel sick to the stomach because all I can imagine is that it is the police with bad news. Of course, when I muster the courage to look outside, it is our next door neighbours...in their own driveway...unpacking the groceries. This happens to me all the time. I have learnt over the years that it means nothing...other than I need to trust in our protection and safety a little more!

Yet on the other hand, I have to expect it. No I don't want to think about it everyday (how doom and gloom would that be) but it is important to me that I acknowledge the fact that life isn't permanent. And I will be heart broken over and over again when people pass away from this world. No longer able to be seen, heard or touched. And I dread the next time as much as I mourn the last time. Please don't let this happen again. It will. That's without a doubt.

Have you ever pondered why we rage against death so much when it is such a natural part of life? Because we will miss them? Because we aren't positively sure what will happen to them after death? Because it makes us acutely aware of the shitty things we are focused on in our own lives that don't actually matter at all? Because are reminded that we too will die one day?

It seems obvious doesn't it? When someone dies we are sad and distraught. But why are we, if we knew it would happen one day, and we know it can come at any time? It makes me think of those who I have loved and lost and why I felt the way I did/do. I know for the most dear to my heart, it was for lack of time. Taken way too early, much too early for my liking!

Have you ever thought about the difference in death depending on the age you pass away at? A precious baby, only days old won't have known anything of the world accept for a family's love. Thank God for that. But they don't even get to feel sunshine, to run or learnt to say 'toast' (Lucy's new favourite word), or just have fun. It's the epitome of unfair.

What about the grandparents and older folk who pass away? For me, while I will miss my loved one very much and I will be sad for the moments we won't share in the future, I will be relieved they have lived long and full lives. Perhaps I might feel a little more comfortable in this situation (press play on the Lion King's circle of life now) knowing that is normal. You grow up, experience life, have a family and then pass away peacefully at a lovely old age.

And those of our friends who are our own age? In a way it seems to rage against nature the worst - because it could be us. It hits very deep down. Our own mortality. And the absence of that beloved person at all social occasions to come. So shocking, deep to the core.

What about the difference in the way your loved one dies? I have been pondering this lately, reflecting on the difference in grieving processes with a death you are expecting, compared to a shocking accident. Its a whole other ball game again when we are talking suicide. People feel so strongly about it - and it appears to me that they either understand it or they don't. And by don't, I mean those of us who feel that it is the most selfish act a person can do. Don't they consider everyone else's feelings in this!? How can they do this to their parents/their partners/their children etc? Have you perhaps considered that maybe even though they knew what it would do to those people, that the pain and torment they were feeling was even greater? That the logical thought processes we all have about life improving after shit times, and the normal chemical balance in our brains which allows us to feel hope, positivity and optimism for the future doesn't exist for them?

Wouldn't it be nice if you could play grim reaper and knock off the people that don't matter to you? Totally the most selfish thing I have EVER written on this blog, but who is against me? Given the choice, would you choose your family member, or a random on the other side of the world you know nothing about? Alright, maybe that is too deep an ethical question to ask - but just saying I know what I would do. Thankfully (and sadly) we don't get to play God with other peoples lives by picking and choosing when their time is up.

But we do actually have that power over our own life. At any point in time we can choose the unimaginable.

I have never been close to a person who has ended their own life, thankfully. But I have known of people close to my people who have, and I have seen varying emotions playing out for them as they learn to understand what the hell just happened. By no means does it make me qualified to speak on the subject, but I feel I am allowed an opinion. And being that it was suicide prevention day yesterday I want to share my thoughts tonight.

Mental illness might as well be cancer for some people, because if you don't receive the right treatment and support, it can all too quickly become a death sentence. I understand that sometimes it seems suicide is the easy road, and maybe your only option to stop the torment that you are experiencing at the moment. I get that from conversations I have had with people very dear to me. That it seems that may be the ONLY way to get relief from whatever is happening. That you have tried and failed, and tried and failed to live like everyone else, trying to keep a happy front up, but all the time despairing inside. Please keep hanging on.

I know life is hard. In fact, it is absolute shit at times. In the past month, I have had a dear friend pass away, a precious family member be diagnosed with cancer, a cousin-in-law pass away, and a brother-in-law needing surgery for breaking his leg at the snow. Add to this a bout of gastro for the whole family and some conjunctivitis for Lucy. But while I feel like the world is caving in, I know that eventually it will ease and happy times will come again. And I do get that perhaps for you, no promise from the future is enough to make an impact right now. That nothing is helping, and nothing has helped before.

But don't commit suicide. No matter how sick, no matter how distraught, no matter what the horrendous situation, I want you to stay here. And I am not saying this from a belief that suicide is wrong, that it is a sin or anything like that. I am saying this because I want you to seek help and I want you healthy again. I want you to take this seriously, your sickness. Because with the correct treatment it will most probably ease, and maybe even leave for good.

I want you to experience love, true and unconditional love. I want you to become a parent and finally feel a love that is all consuming in every way. I want you to feel success in your career and studies. I want you to try something new and feel the buzz when you discover something awesome. I want you to laugh until you cry with your friends. I want you to cry when you lose someone you love and feel your heart break....and still know that it will adjust and continue to live and happiness will come again one day. Feel the warmth of a refreshing shower, and the coolness of a swim in summer. Drive to the coast for a day trip and eat fish and chips! Do whatever it is that you have loved doing before.

And get professional help. Because if you are sick, nothing you can do, no habits that you create, no amount of organisation, no amount of fun you have will fix it. You might be sick. Consider it a lump in your breast/testes. You'd get that checked out by a doctor, for fear of cancer. So go and get a check up with your GP and talk to them if you just can't snap out of your funk.

Because if you are reading this, and feeling like this, I care about you and want to see you well again. Laughing again. Sleeping again. Coping again. Feeling fine again. If I am reaching into your heart tonight, hear me. Be brave and go and get yourself checked by a professional. Understand that no matter what you are feeling and experiencing, it doesn't have to stay the same. It can improve.

And if you need to talk, I am here for you. So is Lifeline - 13 11 14.

Smiling releases endorphins, natural pain killers and serotonin. Do it. NOW!

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Good - believe me, even in the shit times it is still good.

Dear Stacey.....Love From Lauren

For those who cry for a lost one....I do too.

Dear Stacey,

Firstly, where have you gone? I mean, I know you passed away (and I can't quite fathom that it has already almost been a month since that day you left), and therefore you are no longer physically around, but it still doesn't answer my question. Are you with Trent, giving comfort to him and whispering sweet memories in his ear, sharing your love through every ray of sunshine he feels? Or are you watching all of us, being constantly amused by all the little funny moments you might be privy to - did you see me pick my wedgie out this morning after my walk around the park? You might also see how missed and loved you are if you see us all - for you would see the tears in the quiet moments too then. Tears for how much we already miss you, and for the times we won't have together in the future. Tears for your family, and mostly for Trent, and tears for ourselves, for the laughs, the care you gave, and the light you brought to all situations.

You were a little battery charger for me. Thinking about your situation, your terminal cancer always made me feel so very sad, I'd despair what was coming everyday I'd think of you, which was often. But speaking with you and seeing you lifted me higher, with your talk of future activities and proactive searches for the magic remedy, and the promise of more wild and exciting stories to come. Each moment of interaction with you was so filled with zing that I'd hang up puzzled! Did you just cheer me up!? Surely I should be doing the cheering for you!?

But I did! I'd tell you boring stories of Lucy's latest snotty nose or ear infection and of how adorable Greg was as a father. I'd tell you how awful it was returning to work and how much I wanted to spend more time at home with Lucy. I'd tell you about my family, our renovations, our wake boarding trips and our holidays, you always surprised me with how much you wanted to know about every small detail of my life. Every second I spoke, I felt either ungrateful or guilty. How could I possibly whinge about my amazing life, how could I complain about not having enough time with my child? At least I have a child! But you were amazing! You didn't want to compare or compete, not ever. For we both knew that the cancer would be the ace up your sleeve. No, you wanted to be distracted from your own thoughts. You wanted to know what was awesome and upsetting in our lives all the time, because as you said "Loz, it's all relative".

I will forever be devastated that we didn't get to visit you that one last time - the time we both knew would be the last opportunity, yet neither of us could say. You thanked me on the phone for being included on my inspirational board and broke down, telling me you didn't feel very inspiring sometimes. My heart broke for you. And not even for everything you were going through.....but because you still didn't realise how AMAZING you were! How humble you were to never realise Stace that you were the centre of so many different peoples universe, that you brightened so many peoples lives with your smile, your laugh, your cheekiness and mischief. You were truly everyone's best friend, it certainly felt like you were one of mine. So I tried my best to explain in words that just wouldn't come out well, how very special you were to me on the phone that day. How affected I was by your presence in my life. How much I loved you, knowing you, calling you my friend, and being a friend to you. That day we both knew that would be our last conversation. And I cried like no other time when we hung up...

I have grieved for an expected death three times now. Once was over a few weeks, another only a matter of hours, and you over several years. My heart breaking just as deeply each time, tears still springing to my eyes when I ponder the precious ones. It is a hard and difficult grief, one that comes like a car accident you can't turn away from, everything moving in slow motion, yet still heading to the inevitable end. And it's sucks so badly because I hated feeling as though I was grieving you before you were even gone. And the helplessness I have felt over the time you have fought has been huge, but I feel I have played my part as a good friend whenever you needed me. And I am glad I could offer solace during those times. All conversations we have had remain in my heart and will continue so forever.

I'm so proud of you though miss Stacey, for fighting so hard. I remember spending that weekend at Wonnie with you and all the buddies, and our goodbyes felt so final. I worried it was all over then, that you wouldn't even get to meet our baby. Yet here we are, Lucy 16 months old at your passing - so proud of how hard you fought to hold on. You gave your life, your family, your Trent everything you had to stay for as long as you possibly could, and for that I am thankful.

A few years ago, on our way home from somewhere at nighttime, Greg and I saw a shooting star. And I wished for you Stace, for your health and for you life. And I remembered this the day after your memorial service. I told him that I had made that wish and was sad that it never came true. And Greg said, maybe it did. Maybe your miracle was that you were able to fight for so long, and maintain your health for as long as you did - beyond most people's expectations. Maybe....

And maybe its just not fair. That you, in your prime with life and all its glorious joys to come taken away from you. Its not something you deserved, that anyone deserves. Its not friggin fair at all. No, fair would be if good things happened to good people and bad things happened to bad people, but the older I get the more deeply I understand that fair isn't a concept that applies to life. Just games. We play by the rules with cards, with board games, with twister. And those that break the rules are out. But not so much in life. Fair isn't what life is about, is it?

Life is about grabbing each and every moment. Being proud of who you are and the person you've become. Owning your decisions and situations, even when they aren't what you have asked for or wanted. And making the most out of it all - good and bad. You did all of this without even trying Stace, because that is simply the kind of person you were. I often tell people how vivacious, energetic, fun-loving and crazy you were, but I'm sure they don't get it. They don't truly understand what I mean....only those that knew you get it.

You make me want to be a better me. To share my life freely with others and to take a genuine interest in their lives too. To hold back on the resentment and understand that every ones perspective is relative to their own experiences. To listen more. To try more things. And to one day be brave enough to do a nudey swim. I hope you knew before you left that your profound affect on all you came in contact with will live on for the rest of our lives, and I hope we can all share your love of life and true friendship with others too.

I sat around the table with friends after the service to celebrate your life, and it all felt so surreal. The service was amazing, I'm sure you know. But afterwards, I couldn't help feeling confused that I was expecting you to come around the corner at any point in time and take your place as the guest of honour. No, not because I believe in ghosts. But because it felt that you were there. Present. In our world. That nothing had changed. Like at any time I'd catch a glimpse of you chatting with friends, regaling them with another amazing Stacey story.

It has taken me a long time to process the fact that your fight has finished. That you don't have to struggle anymore. And while at first I was uneasy with the fact that I couldn't comprehend your death, I now welcome the feeling that somehow, somewhere, you are still just right here. With us. With your family. With Trent. Because you are still living on in us all, beautiful girl.

All my memories of you are ones of laughter, of fun, of being shocked at your wild stories, of precious deep moments talking faith and death. And I am just one person of the thousands you have known over your time here on earth. We will all keep your memory alive by talking about you. Sharing your stories, feeling your smile in the sunshine and your peace when near the water.

You are still here, you won't ever truly leave. Because even though you are in Heaven, you are in our hearts forever. And you'll always be precious to me.

I'll give Trent a squeeze when I see him next.

Love and miss you always,
Lauren. 

 On our cherished weekend with Stacey and Trent, August 2011

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Good (and also sometimes shitty)

The Internal Struggle and The External Success

All of a sudden, I don't want it to end....but I don't want to have to keep going. But I will. Confused? Me too!

I began a journey of life changing proportions 8 weeks ago. Well actually, it's a journey I began long before then. I actually feel like I began this journey a few years ago now when I woke up one day and wanted to take up my (very fit and encouraging) sister's offer to exercise with me. We began boxing together and it was with her that I realised I was capable of doing more than I gave myself credit for. She pushed me outside the limits I had put on myself, within reasonable expectations for a person who hadn't moved in years.

And it was then I started to run. Initially, when Jane wanted me to run from here to that tree and back again, I told her no, got the shits and asked her not to ask me to run again. Chucked a real little tanty. Didn't she realise I had fallen down the stair the previous year and therefore my ankle was screwed and I could never run on it because it would buckle under my weight and I would end up on crutches for another hellish 8 weeks!? But after a few weeks, she convinced me to run just over to that tree and back again. And I did it. Then we went to that corner just a little further away. Eventually we ran 3 times that distance (which was still probably only 100m!). And later that year we ran together on the beach (for maybe 100m!), and I felt elated. And I have worked hard to get that feeling back again.

When I completed my first 1km time trial for the Michelle Bridges 12 Week Body Transformation I felt this same sense of wonder at my own ability, and at my complete underestimation of capability. And as I have worked through the past 8 weeks there have been several other proud moments where I have excelled, much to my delight.

But what about on the days you don't see the results? On the days when you don't want to drag your arse out of bed in -4 degree temps at 5.30am. When you are denying yourself foods you love (even though you know they aren't good for you) and are just trying, trying, trying all the time to make the right choice. When you can't just come home and sit on the lounge in the evening, because you have to get everything ready for tomorrow morning, because you know once you do your workout and have your shower, you have 45 minutes to get dressed, and get Lucy to daycare so you can get to work on time (just!).

As you can tell, I'm not feeling so elated at the moment. I have come to a point in the program where I am really struggling to keep up the same level of organisation, of commitment and of course motivation. In fact, one might say that this week I resent the program. WHAT!? But I have just lost 10kg on this wondrous program, improved my fitness beyond all expectations and am loving the food right? Right to all those things.

But I have sunk into a (reluctant) realisation that I don't intend to finish this program in 4 more weeks. In fact, I don't intend to stop it ever. And to be honest, I am pissed off about that! It needs to happen, I need to change my life, and I know this. But I'm mad about it. Because that means I will now become a morning exerciser who works out at 5.30am every morning for the rest of my life. And I don't like that thought even a little bit. I have tried other times of the day and it simply doesn't work. If I don't get it down first thing, too many excuses start sneaking in, and I will find a reason not to do it. It means I need to be so organised every evening, and rushed every morning. It means I will forever be spending time on the weekends cooking up some freezer meals for emergency nights. And this week, that all seems really overwhelming.

Because this week, I am a single mother (Greg is at snow for a prior planned holiday for 6 days) with a very sick child who won't do anything but sit on my lap all day long and cry most of the night, and let me tell you there has been no organisation, exercise or proper eating this week. I have reverted to the earlier days of grabbing snacks from the fridge/cupboard where I can and sleeping at any chance I can get. And interestingly I am okay with this lapse in concentration, because it is not for the normal reason of wanting an excuse. It is simply a shit week that happens in life every now and again. This isn't the point where previously I wanted to throw my hands up in the air and announce that this program isn't working for me, that it's too hard, and that it is unrealistic. Jane gave me some excellent advice earlier in the week that went like this..."No worries, just don't make a habit of it!"

Because the truth of the matter is that I actually love this program. I love that it expects a huge amount from me. That I am constantly learning to be disciplined, organised, consistent and strong in body and mind. This is just the point where I have a shit week. I am surviving this week, not powering through. I can have another awesome week, awesome fitness test, awesome weigh in and awesome super Saturday session next week.

Because this journey for me does not end at the end of this round of 12 weeks, nor probably the next 12 weeks. Because I need to loose 43% of my body weight to be within my healthy BMI weight range. And that isn't going to happen overnight. I'm delighted to say I have lost 9% so far, and that I have accepted it is a long road to travel to achieve what I really want. And not to settle for less than that.

The internal struggle is changing all the time. And writing this blog has made me realise I am exactly where I should be. This week is a test, and while I haven't succeeded in food or exercise, I am pleased and surprised to report that it hasn't knocked me for six this time. And it hasn't derailed me. In fact, I'm delighted that I feel this way and that I am keen to get back into the running program and feeling that soreness of hard work.

Motivation is hard to maintain when on such a long journey. But I was let in on a little secret the other day from my awesome personal trainer... Michelle Bridges. She reckons you don't need to be loving it all the time. You just have to shut up and do it, regardless of your emotions. And what a friggin relief! I was worried I wasn't going to be able to succeed at my long journey because at the moment, it is all hard. Less enjoyable, now it has become a lifetime reality. For the moment. But that will rise again, and fall again, as our emotions do. So I am learning to disassociate my training from my emotions and just accept that almost every time I am going to be climbing out of bed cranky, because I have to train. I doubt there will ever come I time when that alarm goes off and I bounce up and say 'awesome! It's work out time!' But I always come in after my workout knowing I have done a good thing for myself today. That I'll sleep well tonight. That I will be stronger tomorrow because I did it. And I will be able to run further next time than ever before.

So the face I put on for you tonight is the most honest one I have. I am having great success with this excellent program. It is bloody hard work. I have to work very hard to keep organised, making sure I have the right food available at the right time and my workout gear and work clothes organised for the following day. And I am tired and sore ALL THE TIME! But it is a good sore. As opposed to the soreness I used to feel in my joints from sitting and doing nothing.

I'm not writing this as a request for encouragement, but simply to say that it is a long and difficult journey to change your life-long habits, both mentally and physically. Those changes are occuring because I am working hard at achieving them and I am proud of myself and would recommend this excellent program to anyone who has the balls to give it their best shot.

This is what I looked like when I became pregnant with Lucy. I will be half that size by the beginning of the next pregnancy.

Ciao for now,
LG, Life's Great!

 

Secret Sex....

Greg: Um, why did you put 'Sex and Love' on your inspirational board? My parents are going to see that.
Me: Sweetheart, your parents know we have sex - they understand where Lucy came from.

I used to be embarrassed at the thought of people having sex with each other, like I was a pervert for acknowledging it. I remember the first time I put two and two together. I would have been maybe 9 or 10, and Danielle (the girl down the road) had a new baby sister. It wasn't long ago that Mum had read me a little interesting book about swimming fish and eggs and a chubby man and woman who looked happy lying next to each other in a bed, so I was all clued up on 'Where Did I Come From'. And there it (she, Tahnee, Danielle's baby sister) was in front of me. A baby. The product of the very process I had recently been educated in. Huh! I looked from Danielle's mum to her dad, and promptly screwed up my nose, pursed my lips in the most unattractive fashion (but who is trying to be fashionable at 9?) and shook my head to try and erase the unwelcome and intrusive image of them happily lying next to each other in bed. I knew that it mean that he put THAT in THERE and then the swimming fish and egg mixed together and somehow that made a baby and put a smile on their faces. And I was mortified.

Obviously, my parents thought it important we knew the business from early on. Which brings to light a question Greg and I have discussed several times over the years...how early should you tell your kids about all things body related? What will you call the girly parts and the manly parts? As we only have Lucy so far, we have only discussed the lady names of which there are so many eligible choices: hoohoo, china, cha cha, fanola, vajayjay, mimi, box and so many more! It cracks me up that people struggle to simply say vagina to their kids. Like saying it will miraculously turn you into a hippyish, sensual being who is a Sex Therapist by day and a nude model by night. Come on everyone, lets all say it together: Va Gi Na! Vagina. Vagina!

Who's cringing? I'm laughing at my computer, I know you hate the word. It gives me all the more joy to yell it from the rooftops. VAGINA!  PENIS!

I felt embarrassed by the thought of sex as a teenager as I considered other couples around me and what people were whispering about at school. There was the girl in the year above me call The Cheese-grater, because her big teeth always got in the way when giving headjobs. She did what!? I didn't know who I felt more sorry for - her being talked about in such a way, or the poor guy she was grating away at. Who's feeling sexy!? Not me.

I suppose your comfort levels as an adult depend A LOT on what you were exposed as a child and teenager, what was okay to talk about etc. From an early age, I always knew the correct names for my private parts and those on the boys. Once mum read me The Book, I knew what sex was, how babies eventuated and even though I was initially disgusted that my parents (and your parents) did THAT, at least I knew how it worked. I love my parents for being open about such a tricky topic, as I felt prepared in the big wide world. Unlike the girl in Greg's yr 12 science class who asked "does the baby come out covered in poo?" because she honestly didn't realise the baby came out the vagina (hehe, there it is again), and thought women gave birth through their arses! HA! Poor girl. I mean sure, it might feel like that, but it isn't the case.

In my non-profession opinion, I do think that peoples attitude towards sex with their partners is often a reflection of how they grew up. I certainly know people who have spent time in a fundamentalist church that focused strongly on convincing the teenagers that sex before marriage was wrong/evil/dirty. So much so that they didn't realise they were also laying down long term values that depicted sex in a negative light, which would affect those poor teens quite seriously later in life when establishing (or not) a sex life with their husbands/wives. And lets not even get into those who have been horribly abused and end up with serious issues to deal with. Not even going to go there.

And then it moved from being embarrassed thinking about others doing it, to being embarrassed that others might realise I was doing 'it'. Now, there is a mortifying story about a time when .... dammit! I can't tell you anymore, as I have made a promise to Greg not to discuss our bedroom (lounge room/shed/your house/etc) activities with you. In addition, my parents also read my blogs, so you know... Oh and hi Nana! ;) All you need to know is there was a time when someone close to us knew exactly what we were up to, much to my disgrace.

But that lesson in discretion and awareness taught me something very valuable. I became okay with the fact that people knew I had/have sex. In fact, good! I want you to know that I am okay with you knowing that. It's not a dirty little secret. It's healthy, and awesome for your relationship. And if you aren't in a relationship, stuff it - enjoy yourself anyway! Figure out what you will teach your future buddy. Why not!?

Because surely it is better to be educated than not? Do you want to be the one with a great sex life, or the one scared of it? There is no secret sex. People know you are doing it. It actually isn't anything to be ashamed or embarrassed about. It's something to be proud of. Something to invest time into. If it isn't working for you, figure out the problem and try and fix it. You will be pleased with the results.

As long as the problem isn't that you have a dud partner....

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Great!

A pleasurable evening....alone ;)

The darling husband has headed for the hills tonight, at very short notice, to make the most out of his season pass at the snow...

I have tried to achieve the level of cool I see in my friends so many times before....with your funky cool clothes and your love for indie music and all things ABC/Triple J. I have immersed myself in Karnavool and the Hilltop Hoods and even devoted a year of my life to only listening to Robbie, Marique and the Doctor on my way to work. I have had a vested interest in the Hottest 100 by voting my faves in and I have watched Rage on a Saturday morning whilst nursing a hangover many a time.

But my heart rings true for Britney. I love hearing the same songs on the radio all day long! I am a 29yr old Twi-hard who is DYING to see the last installment of Breaking Dawn and I wish I had superpowers and the sexy prowess of the vampire glamours. What can I say? I love pop culture. I am a pop loving, Gossip Girl quoting, secret fan of One Direction who no longer can deny her true desire! To be surrounded by whatever is the happening thing at the time.

So it's no surprise that the first thing that comes to mind as I am deciding what I should do with my evening flying solo is "dammit! I wish I had a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey!!!" I can't have a conversation without it popping in somehow...and if you haven't heard about it you must be living in a seperate universe to the rest of us. Apparently they are referring to this book as 'mummy-porn'! It's supposed to be all kinds of sexy, with whips and chains, and kinkiness to boot! Men all over the world are said to be loving the results.....as their wives close their book at bedtime, place it on the bedside table, leave the light on and say "sweetheart, can you go and find an occy strap or 2 while I slip into something a little more uncomfortable"...wink wink.

But I don't have a copy of that book. And I haven't a husband to tie up tonight so I am found wanting ... for an activity to fill my time!

Of course, I have my precious little Lucy here with me, but she isn't great company tonight as she has already been asleep for 2 hours and probably won't rise again until I am well and truly zonked out in bed. Walking aimlessly around the house this evening (I should say, Greg hasn't even been gone an hour yet!), I have already opened her door and just stood in her room like a stalker mother, breathing in her smell and just knowing that if she is well than most things in my life are too. I spent a good 10 minutes in there just generally being grateful. But I could only do that for so long before she caught on to the weirdo in the room and screamed! Oops!

See, I'm not used to being on my own anymore. Now please don't get me wrong when you read this - I must stop you before you grab the car keys and start heading my way. I don't want a visit. I want to relish this time to myself, when I can do whatever I choose, with no limits. Okay, well there are some limits.... clearly I can't read the book I want to! But you know what I mean. As a part time working mum, loving wife and AWESOME friend, 100% of my time is taken up being with people. And I love that. It is where I draw my energy from. But it does leave me at a loss of what to do with myself on a night like tonight. I'm out of practice with hanging out with myself.

Let me tell you a little secret.... I used to see this as an awesome opportunity to eat crap because I wasn't accountable to anyone. I'd have a night all to myself to eat an entire pizza if I so choose. Plus some icecream. Then some lollies. Then some chocolate. And I could go on! Because, it was the perfect opportunity to sneak in all the crap I shouldn't be eating into one disgustingly gross night! If there was a secret camera in my house I would be able to insert footage here of days gone past when I represented the Biggest Loser contestants in the first episode...feeding their faces full of sweet and fatty foods, all gross and shiny, with drips of oil down their chest. Oh gross...I am making myself sick! You get the idea though right? And no, I'm not exaggerating to be funny. I actually did that.

But tonight I continue to be bored wondering how I will amuse myself because I can't do that anymore. Nor do I want to. Apparently, eating because you are bored isn't a valid reason. And also, eating shit in secret also isn't acceptable. Because the secret eating doesn't result in secret kilos!!! Nope... the little bastards will run a tell-all scoop the next time you try that dress on!!!

I have been on a very steep learning curve for 6 weeks now, participating in the Michelle Bridges 12 week body transformation. And yes, I have lost some weight. A large amount in some people's eye and a small amount in mine. Not because I am hard on myself, or unsatisfied. In fact, I am very proud of my hard work and the results I have achieved. But because in the perspective of my body 9kg isn't actually that much, whereas 9kg to Greg would see him dramatically transform into a completely different shape. So far, my clothes are baggier, my boobs feel like giant (but half empty) water balloons and my face is looking more defined. I can even see my collarbones sneaking out to say hello! But that is neither here nor there for me.

Because the most exciting change for me is that on a Friday night when I find myself home alone, with the pantry and fridge full of foods (albeit nutritious foods!) and no one to keep me honest, I am here sitting at the computer with a peppermint tea and nothing more. And I won't have anything more. Because I have eating my fill for the day. End of story. I have fueled my body appropriately and I don't need anything more today.

People who are healthy often misunderstand the journey for an overweight person who genuinely desires to become fit and strong. It's nothing to do with the weight, or the way you look. Its all to do with the way you feel, how fast your heart needs to beat when you walk up the stairs, how easy it is to pick up your toddler and carry her around for half the day. To complete your fitness test every 4 weeks with ever improving numbers....To win the fight in your mind about your choices regarding food and exercise...to celebrate the joy in choosing what is right for you.

And just as soon as I made that decision, to dismiss any tempting thoughts from my mind...and wonderful thought popped into my head. "Blogged lately?"

I've missed you. xoxox

Killing a massive workout with my inspiring and ever-encouraging sister Jane!

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Great!

A Fun Workplace....

I'm a people person.....

I have landed in the most enjoyable team at work. Its Jane. We get along really well. We think the other is hilarious, and laugh our way through most of the days teasing and making wise cracks at each other. Oh, and we work. But that's completely irrelevant. My point is it is a happy day at work with Jane in the next desk. Now Jane isn't a new friend, we worked in the same area before I went on Mat Leave and in the same division for several years a while ago, so we knew each other. We just never actually got to spend as much time together as we do now, laughing our days away....and working, of course.

It got me thinking yesterday about how blessed I've been in my career to find a little gem or two of long lasting friendship from almost every position I have been in. It all started with Rita (which reminds me, it's time to catch up!), then on to Kylie and Jody, Nicky, Amanda and 2Dads Hippy McFlowergirl, Carl, and now Jane. These colleagues I have kept as friends in my private life, outside of work hours.

I was email this 2 Dads Hippy McFlowergirl the other day as I was on the phone to Nicky and laughing at Jane (yes, all at the same time), oh and working, talking about how fun my new team was and how relieved I was to find myself in such a lucky place yet again. And you know what she said? "That does not surprise me, because it is you that brings the fun to a team!" Now Jane, do not let this discredit you at all for being the fun loving girl that you are....and yes I know how conceited this seems, but I certainly do bring a lot of fun to a team. I am fun to have around.

I tell stories that are amusing, at my own expense and often my husbands. I reminisce about past struggles and success. I want to know all about my team mates and I am supportive to them in their time of need. Just as I let support me when I need it too. I tell secrets about myself (I confessed my weight to Jane the other day) and let them in on the inner goings on of Lauren. I share excitement, nerves and frustrations, and I learn tips and tricks of the trade from others ahead of me. I work in all that too.

Anyway, my point isn't necessarily that I am awesome to work with, albeit true. What I am trying to get it is that I have discovered a proven method for making close friends with those identified as worthy (see above list of awesome work buddies who have made it). It has not only worked in my professional life, but in my private life too. And yes, I understand some of you are of the opinion that we only go to work to work and not make friends. But I use all situations as opportunities, and work is not just for work but to find awesome friends too.

If I just went to work to achieve a purpose for my employer and then came home again, well I don't know what to say. I can't even fathom such a ridiculous notion. If I am around people I need to connect with them. I need to be liked and just as importantly, I need to like the people around me. I hate being near tossers in any situation - on a plane, in the supermarket, at the park, in my car. I simply can't tolerate them and I can only hold my tongue for so long. So when I find myself in a team with awesome people, I am simply being grateful of the fact that are absolute wanks.

Because I have been there before. I have been bullied in the workplace. I have had my computer pulled apart on a daily basis by my colleague before I started each day for months. I have had my work deleted. I have had forms forged in my name, and I have been sworn at and abused. (And they weren't swearing like "Oh my god that was f*cking amazing!" whilst telling an awesome story of lotto winnings). I have worked with real assholes.

And I have worked with drab and boring people too. I can't expand on them....it would be drab and boring.


So listen up all you loners out there - here is my proven method of friend-making: Share yourself. It is that simple. Find people you like and share. Share yourself as freely as you are able. I have found the more I am open about myself, the more people share in return. And then all of a sudden you are building trust and knowledge of one another. Bringing your own vulnerabilities to the surface can bring great rewards. I have found this is always the case.

Oh, and I have been hurt before. And I have met many people who can't/don't want to open up to me and share themselves....and we have remained acquaintances. But that is their loss. Because more often than not, I have found great connections with new people who can not only bring love, support and care into my life, but I can do the same for them.

I am a good friend. I am not reliable. I am disorganised. I forget dates and important moments. But I am a good friend. And my friends are good friends too.

So Jane, welcome to the fold....you're my new Carl. :)

Oh, here I am at work a few years ago....working hard, of course. 

Ciao for now, 

LG - Life's Great!

Building Immunity!

It all started with a bout of Gastro.....

Since writing to you last, which seems like forever ago, so much has happened I am not sure where to begin. What do I name this blog? What should I talk about first? How it feels to leave your screaming child in the arms of strangers while you walk out of the room, put on a brave face and try and focus on something other than how much you miss your own heart, which you left behind for the day. Or maybe should I talk about how it feels returning to work after a year off, not caring about it at all during that year and suddenly being thrown back in the deep end. Perhaps I could mention (even though I'd prefer not to) how I didn't uphold any efforts for good health in the past month and as a consequence have gained a shitty 5kgs by eating high energy (low nutrition) foods and drink, and sitting on my bum all day. I would be lax if I didn't mention the complete exhaustion I am feeling, even tonight after a month of waking constantly. Oh, and did I mention how heartbreaking it is to be judged by those a little more old-school than us, how hurtful it is to hear people close to us suggest we were causing Lucy trauma by putting her in care? Poor little Lucy...... POOR LUCY'S MUM!

Clearly it all rolls into one thing......the start of childcare for Lucy and a return to the workforce for me. What a ridiculously emotional month it has been for the little family of ours. So after alluding to all these intertwined stories of turmoil and drama, I actually can't pick where to begin.

In my earliest memories, my mother was working part time - doing what she could to contribute to the family income and keep herself challenged in a career at the same time, while enjoying her days off with us doing lots of activities and having fun. In Greg's memories, his mother was a stay at home mum, work cut out for her with 4 healthy and active young kids running a muck on the family farm. It's funny how we often favour the way we had it as children naturally, without even thinking about it. I was always of the opinion that if Lucy has to go into childcare (which financially she does - I need to work to pay bills) we would embrace this and cope as best we could. Greg, who struggled with the thought of a stranger caring for our child for so many hours a week (at this stage 3 days), clearly thought that a stay at home mum was the best option. We both gravitated towards what we already knew. But what actually happened when the time came was that I burst into tears and hated it completely, and Greg was the one comforting me, telling me how it would be okay, that all would be well and she would adjust in time.

I can only talk from my own experience but I am sure many of you will back me up...the mum often has to deal with all the hardest, most heart wrenching moments, while the daddy's get the fun and giggles! I have taken Lucy for all her immunisation and have watched her give me a look that screams "BETRAYAL!" I have been the one to take her for blood tests when the nurse can't find a vein in her arm, can't find a vein in the second arm and finally taking blood from the back of her hand while Lucy screams with anger, pain and frustration louder than ever before. I have held her while lethargic with fever, warmed her when her fever dropped way too far and always been the one she has turned to for comfort no one else can match. So imagine the anxiety we both felt now that we had to spend full days apart. And it is me dropping her off each morning, listening to her cries as I walk out that door and all I can do is put on my brave face to start my own day.

I was told I will have more sick days in my first few months back from maternity leave than I have had in my whole career. It seems that this may indeed be the case and not an amusing over-exaggeration. Since starting daycare a month ago, Lucy has had gastro, a cold, an ear infection, a chest infection and a urine infection. Greg was lucky enough to share the gastro bug with her. I shared her cold. Before this week, we hadn't slept more than 2 hours in a row in a month. I felt so neglectful sending her off to daycare to pick up yet another set of germs to send her spiralling down yet again....what a nightmare! And others actually made such comments to me, like I didn't feel guilty and heartbroken as it was. If only our mortgage would pay for itself - then perhaps we could just hang out at home until she goes to school....but I imagine the same barrage of germs would hit at that point anyway. If I had my time again, I would chose to start Lucy at daycare a month earlier. I had thought we should have that last month together, but actually having that month at home as she began her new routine would have been better for us.

The weight gain has been a real wake up call for me. To stop playing victim to our new circumstances of a busier life and to obtain control by planning a little more of my week. This goes against the grain of my very being... for those who know me would realise I prefer to fly by the seat of my pants as much as I can. Committing to a schedule is a hard task for me. Getting some kind of routine in place is even harder! But after taking this laid back approach to life in the past month, and jumping on the scales to realise it really isn't working, I acknowledge that something must change. And that something is me! There is nothing harder than trying to get out of bed in the morning after little sleep last night to not only get yourself organised, but also your baby and get out the door at a reasonable time so you can get home at a reasonable time and not miss all of her day! I set out my clothes the night before, and hers. I make her bottles up and put them in the fridge. I make my lunch the night before. I shower the night before. And still.......it seems impossible some days. But have no fear, this weight isn't here to stay and I have no real concerns about sending it packing - I know how to do that.

Work in itself has actually been the icing on the cake this month, most surprisingly. I have found myself in a new team starting out with a new and important project, and it is an exciting time of change, possibility and challenge ahead of us. My workmates make my time there enjoyable - Jane and I laugh the way through the day as we try our best to achieve something (anything) each day. It's been lovely to return to a team of friends who are all really understanding, welcoming and happy to see me. My boss is a father of two girls and has a good understanding of the strains on parents - especially when first returning to work. Thank God! I am particularly grateful for this as I have had more time off than I had been in the office so far! So if I have to be at work, I am actually glad that I am in such a great team.

But people achieve this healthy work/life balance everyday out there, it must just be a learned art. So I am calling out to anyone out there who has tips for me. Tips re how to get the best out of your time when working and managing a family. How to best deal with your mothers guilt of leaving your child everyday. How to best to re kick your career into action on a part time basis without taking too much away from your family time. How do fit in exercise, healthy eating and housework! 

On an emotional note, one of the toughest things that I have experienced this month is the isolation. I don't want to share germs with anyone so Lucy and I have been quarantined away from our friends and family for weeks now. I feel like it has been forever since I have looked at my friends, seen their faces and heard their voices. I went out for dinner last night and couldn't stop talking - I have so many stories built up over the past month that I just need to get them out!!! It is a lonely, lonely time when you or your child is sick.

So overall it has been quite a tough month. And you know what? I actually consider myself to be quite a common sense mother who is pretty tough. But this past month has rocked my foundations of calm and I have felt more anxious than ever before. And I know my child hasn't been all that sick. But several minor illnesses all at once have been a struggle to deal with for us, and it is heart breaking as a mother when you can't fix it. Thankfully, Lucy seems to be on the mend and has allowed us some sleep this week. That human feeling is returning and the zombie mode is lessening everyday.

I know today's blog hasn't been uplifting, but I am telling you how it's been in our house as we have all individually struggled to begin this new stage of life. I am sure there are others out there who understand what we have been through. And for those of my friends and family who will go through their own change to daycare arrangements soon - I hope it goes a little smoother than this.

Here is Lucy yesterday, showing me where she likes to play at daycare. She is settling in more and more each day, which is a great relief to Greg and I.

Ciao for now, 

LG - Life's Great!

Appropriate Grief - The Degrees of Separation

So.....how well did you know him?

Andrew was a friend of mine. I knew him through my history of musical theatre. We had done several shows together, me on stage and he and his wife backstage. My mother was a good friend of theirs and consequently I was invited to attend social gatherings at his place. That is how well I knew Andrew. Knew. I can no longer say that is how I know Andrew. Because he passed away this morning. And in the blink of an eye, Andrew has become past hence.

I'm writing today from a place of sadness and grief. And a fair amount of shock too. Because although my mother says she told me in January, I swear I only found out he was sick on Friday last week (she may have told me, I did write a whole blog on how vague I can be at times - all the time). And all of a sudden he is gone. Wow.

I remember when I was about 15 my Nana passed away. My dad called us as we were walking to school, and then came up to the school office to see how we were. I was more concerned with how he would be. And Nana had been sick for a very long time so it was somewhat expected. In fact, we had been up to Sydney to visit her just the previous weekend, to say goodbye. And you know one of the things I remember people saying when they first found out? Were you close to her?

Or in other words, how sad are you? How should I respond to you? How deeply are your feeling these emotions and which box can I put this in? Are you:

1. Momentarily upset, 
2. Stoic but strong,
3. Crying and sensitive,
4. Deeply saddened, on the long term scale, or
5. Irrepairably distraught beyond words.

So whenever anyone I knew passed away from that moment on, that is how I felt I needed to explain myself to others, to give them fair warning so they can adjust their level of care and support that they may feel they need to give to me. How odd.

But I don't want to say that my friend Andrew, who I probably only saw once a year on Australia Day but don't see anymore because they moved to QLD, wasn't a close friend. Or that I haven't seen him for about 4 years now. Because perhaps in your mind that may bump my grief down a few notches on the scale of 1 to 5. That perhaps I don't have a right to grieve with whatever force I wish to. That it is appropriate for me to mourn him momentarily, but as he wasn't in direct or regular contact with me, I probably shouldn't get too carried away with tears and long term sad thoughts of times gone by.

But you know what? I say you are wrong. As I take joy in any baby news I hear, I also take sadness in any death I hear of. And when it is someone I know, who at any stage in my life I have loved as a friend, I will grieve that loss in whatever manner I see fit, regardless of how much I 'should' take on board.

I have experienced varying degrees of grieve through my lifetime. I know the loss of a child can be an irreversible trauma, and the loss of a grandparent can be a peaceful, yet sad acceptance. I know the loss of a young person brings up so much anger and frustration, and that a tragic and shocking accident is no easier to deal with than being prepared for the end after a long, drawn out and painful illness. I know what it is like to cry at a picture or at the sound of a song 5 years later, with grief that is as new as the day it arrived.

And I know how it feels to be judged for not grieving the appropriate way, for the appropriate time. For offending others when trying to reach out a hand in unity, for showing too much emotion or not enough. For yet again struggling to understand death - the concept that someone ceases to exist as of a second on a clock. Yes, I believe in an afterlife. But I'm talking about that person ceasing to exist in the world I know right now. Earth! That there will be a time that the world will function without (insert whoever you wish here).

At some point in time this morning, Andrew no longer was Andrew. All of a sudden, his body was just a body and was no longer him as a person. And Di, his beautiful wife, is expected to leave him at the hospital, to walk away from him at the end of today and perhaps never look upon his face in person again. To go home to their bed. Drive their car? Open their fridge. Her fridge. Her car. Her bed. All within an instant.

So tonight I am simply grieving. Grieving that the world has lost a fantastic man today. A man who loves a good laugh, good company and good food. Whose wife loved him endlessly and who will now live on without him. It is sad. So sad. And I may not be in their inner circle of friends and family, but I will pay my respect to him by grieving him in the truest fashion I can. For he deserves to be grieved appropriately.... but this time that appropriateness will be decided by those who grieve him, not the onlookers.

Rest in Peace Andrew, until we meet again.
LG.

Hey Parents...Don't Forget Your Relationship!!!

Taking some time back....

Greg and I have been together for 9 years this May and we have had some absolutely wonderful times. And some tough times too. But mostly, we have cruised along through life with ease. Ease with each other, ease with the wider world, ease with our life. It isn't hard for us to be together. We agreed on a lot and pick our battles strategically when we don't. It works in our favour that we are both almost as laid back as each other, because we don't sweat the small stuff, mostly because we couldn't be bothered with the toothpaste/toilet seat/hanging of clothes argument. Over the 6 years we have lived together our roles have formed and mostly we are agreement of them. I particularly like our renovating roles. I pick colours and occasionally suggest ideas, whereas Greg states what we need, and considers all the details that are required for it to happen. Oh, and he does most of the hard work too. Perfect.

We got used to living as a couple, and while we have had the occasional house guests who temporarily stayed with us, it always returned to us. The 2 of us living in our precious little bubble of happiness, comfort and easy laughs....mostly at each others expense.

So when Lucy moved in (Greg tells me this is an off way of putting it) it took some adjusting to our couple becoming a threesome. Instantly we loved it, but over time we noticed there would be moments when we realised we still hadn't got used to (insert baby activity/property/toys/noise here). We couldn't contain our excitement to bring Lucy home and show her around. We'd tell her 'here is your fridge Lucy, here is your lounge, and this is your backyard'. Everything that was ours of course became hers.

The first night we were home with her which was her second night on the outside, we put her down and fell into bed ourselves. We had been running on adrenaline for the past 48hours and no one had slept properly. I hadn't slept for 72 hours so I was well tired and when my head hit my pillow I was immediate out to it. I'm not sure how long I slept, but I abruptly woke to her cries in the night and jumped out of bed (a move I wouldn't advise after giving birth so recently) most upset. Not upset because I had been woken. Not upset that she was crying. But upset because I, in my sleepy exhausted state, had completely forgotten about her existence! 'OMG Greg! I forgot we had a baby!!! How long has she been crying for?!' And so it begun. My sleepy awareness of Lucy in our house.

And I wasn't just aware of her in our house. I woke up every night either sleep talking, or physically searching for her in our bed and our room. In frantic whisper I would say 'GREG! Is Lucy in bed with us!?' I can't count the amount of times I had dreamt she was caught under our covers, or the amount of times I'd be patting Greg down to try and find her (lucky man). One night, in my sleep, I thought I had found her and tried to lift her up under her arms so I could take her off to her bed. But I woke with frustration, and it took me a second to realise that the reason I couldn't lift her wasn't because she was really heavy, but because I was actually trying to lift Greg out of bed while he was sleeping soundly. Poor Greg. This continued for at least 6 months straight...every night without fail. I am finally sleeping a little better now, although I still freak out occasionally.

At almost a year old, we have just started to leave her to be babysat...which is a blessing for not only us but also for whoever gets to spend that time with Lucy. Before I had her, I thought that I would be able to leave her a lot earlier than I have, but with breast feeding and such a deep connection to her that I hadn't expected, it has only just become possible. To be honest, I didn't really ever want to be without her before. I still don't. But I have found it is good for both of us to have some time apart, she has fun and I get some me time.

But I have grown ready for some adults only time again. Our life for the past year has been Lucy centred, and so it should have been. She deserves that and we wouldn't have been able to do anything else. But as Greg and I watched How I Met Your Mother last night, curled up on the lounge after Lucy had gone to bed, we watched these friends (who are very similar to ours) get together at their local bar and just enjoy themselves, and for the first time in a long time, we longed to be with our friends, sans Lucy. Sans all babies. For one night only, just be together and have conversations that aren't about our children. To drink too much, tell stories and laugh loudly without the worries of baby monitors, being quiet for the sleeping bubs, or cleaning the bottles for tomorrows feeds. Without soaking bibs. Without sorting out the Child Care Benefit/Rebate. And without it being all about Lucy.

A selfish moment in time, I'll admit. And please, don't misunderstand this - nowhere in this moment was there any resentment or regret for our daughter that we chose after 5 years of marriage to bring into this world. Who we love with more emotion we thought possible. For those who know me or read this blog, you also know how devoted I am to my Lucy, how all consuming my love for her is. No, not resentment or regret.

But even though we have a baby, we are still here as people, individually Lauren and Greg, not just Lucy's mum and dad, although those positions are very precious. A simple yearning for our grown up lives to continue because we are still grown ups. The lives that allow us to hold intelligent conversations about things other than the colour/texture/smell of Lucy's poo, or how much she has eaten that day, and how many times she woke up last night.

She is the best, most exciting thing to have ever happened to us. And I feel mothers guilt for writing this blog today, because I would hate for your to misunderstand what I am saying. My love for her is all consuming, and my devotion to her is never ending, and her novelty will never wear off. I am no less the mother I was yesterday, and no less interested in her. When we became a family, our little threesome was perfect, and still is. But we have come to realise that while she is still the best and most exciting thing in our lives, that we also need other interests too.

Greg and I have a relationship that existed pre-Lucy. And she is a result of the love in our relationship. And it is important to me to maintain our relationship by investing time into it. Caring for Greg is just as important as caring for Lucy (although, I'm not going to be changing his pants any time soon!), and I feel that it is now time to make sure we spend some time together when we get the chance too. And allow Lucy to have fun with her family and friends and have an afternoon off from us occasionally too.

The love I have for Lucy and Greg can't compare. I love them both more than life itself. I loved Greg as a friend, then fell in love with him. And I never want there to be a time when he is not mine, and I am not his. The love I feel for Lucy blinds me against everything else. She was created by us. And I love Greg all the more for giving me the gift of Lucy.

But Lucy will grow up and leave our nest one day soon (it feels like it will be soon anyway...this past 12 months has flown by all too quickly!) and it will return to just me and Greg. And I want to know then that we love each other just as much as we do now, if not more. And that doesn't just happen. Because our relationship cannot be forgotten in the wonder that is Lucy and the seduction of making our lives all about/ and only about her. I want her to grow up seeing her mother and father not only giving their time to her, but also prioritising time for each other, and remembering to care for each other as a couple, aside from the fact that we are her parents.

So we are looking forward to some time spent together as grown ups in the future. Time where for just a few hours, or perhaps maybe even a night, it is about Greg and I again. Whether that's with our friends pretending to be as cool as Marshall, Lily, Barney, Ted and Robyn, or as a couple just enjoying each others company.

Of younger days gone by.

Ciao for now,

LG, Life's Great!

Just Waiting For Bad News.......

It can't always be this good.......


I've had a feeling of dread since Saturday morning when Lucy woke at 4am and cried for 90 minutes without relief. Rivers of snot poured out her little nose and she screamed even harder each time I tried to wipe it away. Poor little munchkin just wanted to sleep but couldn't breath through her nose. I did what I could and eventually cuddled her enough to calm her down and at 5.30 she finally drifted back off to sleep. Now Greg has been pulling some big hours this past few weeks helping out a mate and had planned to get up at 6am, instead he got up when Lucy went down. I worried that he would be too tired to make it to work safely, and too tired to make it home at the end of the day.


I got a message from him when I woke up - 'call me as soon as you wake up'. I don't know about you, but when I see something like that, I expect the absolute worst. My heart skipped a beat and I could dial his number quick enough. 'Honey, are you okay!?' 'Yeah, I need you to pick up something from work and bring it out at lunch time'. Bloody hell! And from that moment onwards, I was just waiting for something awful to occur.


It was one of those days, when you think about how lucky you have been lately and how you really should be due for some bad luck soon. Isn't that a shocking way to feel. Occasionally I will have days like this, when you just can't shake that horrid feeling of doom and gloom. Waiting for something horrendous to happen. Looking for things that you are sure are lurking just around the corner.


I have trouble seeing our future. And I don't mean in a psychic kind of way.... more in an imaginary kind of way. I use to dream of a house, a husband and children. And I have that, so perhaps I am not sure what to dream of next. And I have wondered if that could mean I may not have a long term future, that for some reason I am not destined to be here forever. And no, I am not depressed or suicidal, nor am I wishing this upon myself (thank you universe believers). I just have never imagined our life beyond the next 5 years or so and sometimes I wonder why I can't see it.


So with this tragic state of mind in place, I felt very grateful to get through yesterday safely and have no horrid news delivered. But I was still feeling a little cranky today, unable to shake this cloud of mild anxiety off my shoulders. It should have been a happy day. I had Greg home with us for the first time all week, we did a big shop at Costco (yay!) and Lucy was off to spend the afternoon with her uncle and auntie for a play, which meant that I had Greg all to myself. My brother and his girlfriend came and picked up Lucy in my car and off they went. And in true romantic style, Greg and I hit the bed immediately after Lucy left like any parents of an infant would....to sleep. Poor Greg had been pulling ridiculous hours all week, and I was tired from acting as a single mother all week (I don't know how you girls do it). So we cuddled up under the covered and crashed the moment our heads hit the pillow...only to be awoken very rudely by a knock at the front door not half an hour later.


Our first thought was shhhhh, don't move. We didn't care who it was, they were not going to interrupt our second afternoon alone together in almost a year. No way. And as they walked down the stairs, Greg peeked and got quite the surprise. It wasn't any friends or family of ours, not neighbours or do-gooders or salespeople.


It was the police.


Tell me what you think when you see the police in your front yard. Well, I'm not sure about you but my first thought was of Lucy. And my second was of my parents, who I know both have me listed as a contact in case of emergency. They left as quickly as they arrived, before we got a chance to get to the front door. And we were left wondering........why had they come.


We are law abiding citizens. We have no reason for them to visit out of the blue. We hadn't done anything wrong lately (ever). All I could think of were worst case scenarios. Mick and KJ had been in an accident with Lucy. Something had happened to Mum or Dad. What if it was news of Greg's parents. My heart was in my throat and I felt like vomiting.


So I thought I'd alleviate my stress by sending a quick message to my brother to make sure all was well. After 10 minutes with no response, my nerves got the better of me so I called his phone. Message bank. Doing my best to calm my pounding heart, I called KJ. Message bank. Just as I was about to call her business phone, Mick called me. And I have never been so pleased to see his name flash up on my phone. No problems, all was well, they had been playing with Lucy and she was doing great. Far out!


Greg had told me not to worry, that either the police had the wrong house or they were here for something else mundane. KJ called me a little while later to see if I knew why they had come. And you know what she said to me as we were discussing how scary it had been. 'Oh, hold on Lauren. Your mum has just turned up at our house with a box of tissues.....oh no. I'll go and find out what is going on.' And an excruciating few seconds passed when I felt my life being turned upside down by a host of imaginary dramas. And then I got an answer........'Oh no, its a book, not tissues! You're mum is fine!'


Bloody hell!


Talk about being on edge. All this waiting for something awful to happen was doing my head in, and those bloody cops popping past our house was just a nightmare. Then Mum looking like she was carrying tissues. And my daughter not being safe in my arms (although, clearly she was safe in their arms instead). BLOODY HELL!


Yet here I am on Sunday night, still safe with my love ones safe too. You can't live your life expecting shit to happen....because who knows when it will happen. I only know that it will happen eventually. Because we can't all live forever. And people near and dear to us do pass away from tragic sickness, old age, and shocking accidents. But expecting these things to happen doesn't bring them into fruition. Expecting them not to happen won't protect me from them either. All I can do is ride my feelings as they come and just know that when these moments do arrive, I hope to have the courage to weather those storms, and be a pillar of strength to others around me when their storms roll in.

My nerves are shot. I'm going to bed.


Ciao for now,
LG, Life's Great!