Hey Guys,
It has become impossible for me to post blogs each week day as I previously enjoyed doing so. I have 2 more weeks with Lucy left until she heads into day care for 3 days a week, so I am going to spend that time with her.
It is my intention to keep writing my blog on a less disciplined time frame, so please keep a look out and read up when you get a chance.
Thanks for continuing to read my thoughts, experiences and ponderings on life.
Lauren xoxoxox
Monday, 26 March 2012
Friday, 23 March 2012
A Truly Astonishing Week - Part 3... Andy!!!
Grieving My Losses
Out of all of the extended Supra family, I've known Andy the longest. I met him when I was 16 at a camp. I think if you had asked us all those years ago if we'd believe we were destined to become besties, I don't quite know what you might have heard us say. It's not because I didn't like him, he was nice enough. But we didn't talk much - probably because he thought I was nuts. Fair assumption. Years later, I met him again around the same time I met Greg - funny that because they lived together for 5 years before Greg moved in with me. And you have never seen a funnier coupling. To this day they are still niggling each other, arguing about everything and laughing at each other, they are a great match made from very similar molds.
So Andy has been in my life for a very long time now and I have watched him over the past few years really establish what interests he'd like to pursue and chase after his goals with such determination and tenacity, that he often renders the rest of us lazy, simply in comparison! This is a man who took up playing football at 34 and can run around the field with the young pups, often putting them to shame. A man who is more competitive than anyone else I know, all you have to do is set the man a challenge and he has already achieved it ten minutes ago....and probably exceeded all expectations. Why so driven? I think Andy is just one of the few people in the world who know that the body can withstand more than your mind allows you to think it can, and he takes it to the limits. His mental strength and perseverance is ridiculous.
I saw Andy's competitive nature again on the back deck of our houseboat...where by nightfall of our first eve on the boat he had caught his 40th carp already! No word of a lie. Albeit they were mostly little ones, but still.....we had only been able to fish since 6pm!!! And I saw it too when he, Micka and Steve set up a makeshift fitness circuit. Andy is one of the fittest guys I know, and he works hard for that label. He doesn't just go to footy training. He also makes sure he runs several other times a week to improve his fitness and skills, and he is very motivated to increase his strength to prevent injuries and just generally get the best out of himself. Steve and Micka play in the same footy team as Andy, so they were all keen to keep up their fitness while away.
So they all suited up (shoes and workout gear) and hit the banks of the river. I did too. Now, I can tell you the stereotypes of people who intimidate me....and footy players are high on that list. But this is Steve, Micka and Andy. So they are less intimidating, but when I was considering taking the opportunity to workout with them or not, I did note the vast difference in our fitness levels, my aching recently weaned boobs and the fact that I'm sure none of them had seen the full force of my red head. But twas the week for throwing caution to the wind and giving everything a go, and I suited up!!! Correction. Was not the week for trying new things. Is now the life for it. I actually left myself wide open for jokes when I announced (after a red wine) at the dinner table that this week was for trying new things and that I would do anything anyone asked of me..........
So we had 5 different stations.
1. A kettle bell swing that looked very alarmingly like you are trying the hump the crap out of it to get it up in the air. All the boys felt it necessary to show me how it worked. I felt rude for watching.
2. Jump ups onto a log. Micka made it look easy enough so when I could hardly coordinate both feet off the ground at the same time and almost stacked it before we even began...so could have given up then. Didn't. Just amended mine to step ups instead.
3. Tricep dips on the log. Easy enough.
4. Another kettle bell exercise that I didn't do, opting for push ups instead (the kettle bell was well above my strength level.)
5. A run along a track. The boys had their track, and I had mine which was about 1/3 or maybe even 1/4 of their distance...but that didn't matter cause it took me approximately about the same time to get my shuffle along my little track as it did for them to pace out theirs.
We worked a few different combos of time, but mostly it looked like 80sec working with 40 sec break to catch your breath...and in your break you could opt to do the plank for fun. After the first circuit I was well red in the face and working hard. My breath was quick and heavy. I was feeling the affects big time already. I pushed through. After the second circuit we all agreed to pop back to the boats for a very quick drink and then straight back into 3rd set. Briefly my mind gave me the option of sitting down next to Greg on the boat and not completing that 3rd. Didn't. And the beauty of the circuit is that you can all work to your own individual level of fitness and strength. So we did. I was encouraged by the boys and their outstanding efforts, and they were proud and impressed with me for what I could do. And by the end, I'm pretty sure we were all sweating, panting, and feeling like we had done our best.
So lets get this straight. I worked out with three fit football players. For fun. And wasn't embarrassed. Actually felt the opposite. I felt like I belonged there, in my group of friends, being active and having a laugh as we go. Encouraging each other until the next break and laughing at Andy when he gagged from his extreme effort. Getting out into the wide world and enjoying every second. Taking opportunities as they are offered. God I was proud of myself.
And I was watching Andy. Not in a weird stalker way. But in an observing awesomeness way. Because he has the most committed training style I have ever seen. And not because he almost threw up. That's gross. But because he just kept going and going. And he was working hard. He was breathing the hardest. Sweating the most. Groaning the most. And we were all working our arses off. But he was the friggin energiser bunny or something! In the rests, where at times we would all fail to plank and stand there sucking in the big ones instead, mostly Andy would be on the ground planking away during his rest periods. Amazing!
But don't you know it when you have worked out muscles that haven't been used in a while. As much as you stretch, you are going to get sorer and sorer. So this is the thing I am most proud of for the week. My workout with the boys was on Thursday morning. My first wakeboarding attempt was that same afternoon! That trying and trying and trying and endlessly holding on as best I can, was with arms that had just worked out with three fit footballers. Those arms that held on time and time again had just been doing push ups and tricep dips just hours before. Those same arms that finally got me out of the water were already weary arms from an awesome session. And I can tell you they were certainly getting stiff by the time I hit the water. Did I care? No! Did I persevere? Yes. And was I the MOST determined person Greg has ever seen behind our boat...even with jelly arms?! YES!
Because I had been watching (stalking?) Andy and I realised as I was floating in the water, mustering the energy to go again, that Andy knows how to get the most out of his body. And I wanted to get the most out of mine too. So I did. And don't forget.....I wakeboarded again the following day. Oh, and don't also forget...I am 40kg overweight. Proud much?
I wanna have that commitment to my life. I want to suck every single thing I can out of every single situation so I not only get the best, but so that I can be the best, and so I can give my best to others. I don't want to just live like it doesn't matter anymore, just a bit willy nilly.And I wanna be fit so that these activities can be even better next time. I am going to own my own wakeboard next summer and get a girly life jacket, not a massive mens one. Mark my words kids. It's going to happen.
I left out an important part of my experience of wakeboarding yesterday, deliberately so I could share it with you today. After my second and more successful wakeboard attempt, the first 60 seconds in the boat were all about how awesome it was. How happy I was. How inspired I felt. And then it hit me strong enough that I felt like crying....from sadness and grief.
I could have had 10 years of this joy. I could have loved it all along. And all these different moments came flooding back of moments that I have not participated, moments of me saying no for no reason. Of me getting fatter and fatter. Of me feeling more and more insecure. I could've punched myself in the throat right then and there. IDIOT! And this is the moment guys. This is the true moment I have been waiting for all along where all of a sudden it clicks. I finally understood what I had been doing to myself and how I had put myself at such a disadvantage in life by missing all this amazingness all along. All the times I could have felt this joy. All the times I could have been proud of my efforts.
I know what you are already rushing to tell me. And you are right. The important part of this story is that I made it this far. But I think it is important for me to grieve my 20s. Yes, I have achieved so much, I have a wonderful life and I am very happy and proud of it, but there was so much more to do as well. I feel I have been only living 70% of the life intended for me for so long now. And I need to acknowledge that and grieve it, because I would hate to just sweep it under the rug and then repeat the same mistake again. I want to focus on it for a while, because it is my wake up call. Life could have been EVEN better than what it already had been. Amazing! And I've had a taste of it and I will not be going back from here kids.
And Andy? Take a knee, for I have something to say to you. You are a training machine and I have a lot to learn from you. Your encouragement and knowledge has been gratefully received and I intend to continue picking your brain as I travel down this road. Thank you for making something click in me that I never quite understood before. xo
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Great!
Out of all of the extended Supra family, I've known Andy the longest. I met him when I was 16 at a camp. I think if you had asked us all those years ago if we'd believe we were destined to become besties, I don't quite know what you might have heard us say. It's not because I didn't like him, he was nice enough. But we didn't talk much - probably because he thought I was nuts. Fair assumption. Years later, I met him again around the same time I met Greg - funny that because they lived together for 5 years before Greg moved in with me. And you have never seen a funnier coupling. To this day they are still niggling each other, arguing about everything and laughing at each other, they are a great match made from very similar molds.
So Andy has been in my life for a very long time now and I have watched him over the past few years really establish what interests he'd like to pursue and chase after his goals with such determination and tenacity, that he often renders the rest of us lazy, simply in comparison! This is a man who took up playing football at 34 and can run around the field with the young pups, often putting them to shame. A man who is more competitive than anyone else I know, all you have to do is set the man a challenge and he has already achieved it ten minutes ago....and probably exceeded all expectations. Why so driven? I think Andy is just one of the few people in the world who know that the body can withstand more than your mind allows you to think it can, and he takes it to the limits. His mental strength and perseverance is ridiculous.
I saw Andy's competitive nature again on the back deck of our houseboat...where by nightfall of our first eve on the boat he had caught his 40th carp already! No word of a lie. Albeit they were mostly little ones, but still.....we had only been able to fish since 6pm!!! And I saw it too when he, Micka and Steve set up a makeshift fitness circuit. Andy is one of the fittest guys I know, and he works hard for that label. He doesn't just go to footy training. He also makes sure he runs several other times a week to improve his fitness and skills, and he is very motivated to increase his strength to prevent injuries and just generally get the best out of himself. Steve and Micka play in the same footy team as Andy, so they were all keen to keep up their fitness while away.
So they all suited up (shoes and workout gear) and hit the banks of the river. I did too. Now, I can tell you the stereotypes of people who intimidate me....and footy players are high on that list. But this is Steve, Micka and Andy. So they are less intimidating, but when I was considering taking the opportunity to workout with them or not, I did note the vast difference in our fitness levels, my aching recently weaned boobs and the fact that I'm sure none of them had seen the full force of my red head. But twas the week for throwing caution to the wind and giving everything a go, and I suited up!!! Correction. Was not the week for trying new things. Is now the life for it. I actually left myself wide open for jokes when I announced (after a red wine) at the dinner table that this week was for trying new things and that I would do anything anyone asked of me..........
So we had 5 different stations.
1. A kettle bell swing that looked very alarmingly like you are trying the hump the crap out of it to get it up in the air. All the boys felt it necessary to show me how it worked. I felt rude for watching.
2. Jump ups onto a log. Micka made it look easy enough so when I could hardly coordinate both feet off the ground at the same time and almost stacked it before we even began...so could have given up then. Didn't. Just amended mine to step ups instead.
3. Tricep dips on the log. Easy enough.
4. Another kettle bell exercise that I didn't do, opting for push ups instead (the kettle bell was well above my strength level.)
5. A run along a track. The boys had their track, and I had mine which was about 1/3 or maybe even 1/4 of their distance...but that didn't matter cause it took me approximately about the same time to get my shuffle along my little track as it did for them to pace out theirs.
Here are the strapping young lads...thrusting and planking away. Kat got this pic just before I arrived at workout session. They were warming up.
We worked a few different combos of time, but mostly it looked like 80sec working with 40 sec break to catch your breath...and in your break you could opt to do the plank for fun. After the first circuit I was well red in the face and working hard. My breath was quick and heavy. I was feeling the affects big time already. I pushed through. After the second circuit we all agreed to pop back to the boats for a very quick drink and then straight back into 3rd set. Briefly my mind gave me the option of sitting down next to Greg on the boat and not completing that 3rd. Didn't. And the beauty of the circuit is that you can all work to your own individual level of fitness and strength. So we did. I was encouraged by the boys and their outstanding efforts, and they were proud and impressed with me for what I could do. And by the end, I'm pretty sure we were all sweating, panting, and feeling like we had done our best.
So lets get this straight. I worked out with three fit football players. For fun. And wasn't embarrassed. Actually felt the opposite. I felt like I belonged there, in my group of friends, being active and having a laugh as we go. Encouraging each other until the next break and laughing at Andy when he gagged from his extreme effort. Getting out into the wide world and enjoying every second. Taking opportunities as they are offered. God I was proud of myself.
And I was watching Andy. Not in a weird stalker way. But in an observing awesomeness way. Because he has the most committed training style I have ever seen. And not because he almost threw up. That's gross. But because he just kept going and going. And he was working hard. He was breathing the hardest. Sweating the most. Groaning the most. And we were all working our arses off. But he was the friggin energiser bunny or something! In the rests, where at times we would all fail to plank and stand there sucking in the big ones instead, mostly Andy would be on the ground planking away during his rest periods. Amazing!
But don't you know it when you have worked out muscles that haven't been used in a while. As much as you stretch, you are going to get sorer and sorer. So this is the thing I am most proud of for the week. My workout with the boys was on Thursday morning. My first wakeboarding attempt was that same afternoon! That trying and trying and trying and endlessly holding on as best I can, was with arms that had just worked out with three fit footballers. Those arms that held on time and time again had just been doing push ups and tricep dips just hours before. Those same arms that finally got me out of the water were already weary arms from an awesome session. And I can tell you they were certainly getting stiff by the time I hit the water. Did I care? No! Did I persevere? Yes. And was I the MOST determined person Greg has ever seen behind our boat...even with jelly arms?! YES!
Because I had been watching (stalking?) Andy and I realised as I was floating in the water, mustering the energy to go again, that Andy knows how to get the most out of his body. And I wanted to get the most out of mine too. So I did. And don't forget.....I wakeboarded again the following day. Oh, and don't also forget...I am 40kg overweight. Proud much?
I wanna have that commitment to my life. I want to suck every single thing I can out of every single situation so I not only get the best, but so that I can be the best, and so I can give my best to others. I don't want to just live like it doesn't matter anymore, just a bit willy nilly.And I wanna be fit so that these activities can be even better next time. I am going to own my own wakeboard next summer and get a girly life jacket, not a massive mens one. Mark my words kids. It's going to happen.
I left out an important part of my experience of wakeboarding yesterday, deliberately so I could share it with you today. After my second and more successful wakeboard attempt, the first 60 seconds in the boat were all about how awesome it was. How happy I was. How inspired I felt. And then it hit me strong enough that I felt like crying....from sadness and grief.
I could have had 10 years of this joy. I could have loved it all along. And all these different moments came flooding back of moments that I have not participated, moments of me saying no for no reason. Of me getting fatter and fatter. Of me feeling more and more insecure. I could've punched myself in the throat right then and there. IDIOT! And this is the moment guys. This is the true moment I have been waiting for all along where all of a sudden it clicks. I finally understood what I had been doing to myself and how I had put myself at such a disadvantage in life by missing all this amazingness all along. All the times I could have felt this joy. All the times I could have been proud of my efforts.
I know what you are already rushing to tell me. And you are right. The important part of this story is that I made it this far. But I think it is important for me to grieve my 20s. Yes, I have achieved so much, I have a wonderful life and I am very happy and proud of it, but there was so much more to do as well. I feel I have been only living 70% of the life intended for me for so long now. And I need to acknowledge that and grieve it, because I would hate to just sweep it under the rug and then repeat the same mistake again. I want to focus on it for a while, because it is my wake up call. Life could have been EVEN better than what it already had been. Amazing! And I've had a taste of it and I will not be going back from here kids.
I'm glad I have begun my 40kg challenge, because snowboarding will be so
much easier to try when I am lighter and so much stronger. ;)
And Andy? Take a knee, for I have something to say to you. You are a training machine and I have a lot to learn from you. Your encouragement and knowledge has been gratefully received and I intend to continue picking your brain as I travel down this road. Thank you for making something click in me that I never quite understood before. xo
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Great!
Thursday, 22 March 2012
A Truly Astonishing Week - Part 2...Steve!!!
A true satisfaction - for both parties!
Steve has been one of Greg's main men for as long as I can remember. I actually met them both on the same night, at a friends 18th birthday party. Although Steve thinks we first met a little while later, and his first memory of me is not one I wish to remember and cannot help going bright red anytime he refers to 'when he first met me', because I know he has it wrong and I know what he is thinking. Ka Boom! Embarrassment head explosion!
But despite this discrepancy he has grown to be one of my best male buddies. We have shared many a deep and meaningful conversation about grief, tragedy, sadness, faith, hope, and happiness. He is also one of my favourite drinking buddies (sorry girls, but being twice your size I fail to feel the effects at the same speed as you, frowny face - wish I did though, would be more fun and cheaper!). He is also a musical genius with vocals and the guitar so I love to sing with him whenever I get the chance. He is a caring guy who loves Greg, Lucy and I as family as we do him and his family too. We are a real little family together. In fact, in 2007 when they returned from living 6 months in the UK, Steve and his wife Kat moved in with us for a while. Then you can add in Andy and Amy and you have our little Supra family. Lame name guys! Who calls themselves a Supra family. Well, don't get all carried away...its the brand of the boat we all own together...so it just happened. And yes we have Supra hats, but they were given to us for free!!! For our holiday, Steve was my personal trainer #2.
So as mentioned previously, Steve has been itching for years to teach me how to get up wakeboarding and has been quite confident all along that I would be able to do it no worries! Me? I didn't think so. I had honestly given it my all and I didn't know what I could possibly do that was any different to what I had done before. So after 9 years of rejecting the opportunity to try wakeboarding, and 4 years of actually owning my own part in a very fancy wakeboarding board I made the choice that our houseboat trip on the Murray would be the time. And I don't know what is different now, why I have come to this point. Is it that I want Lucy to grow up taking all the opportunities she is offered and having an awesome time? Is it the hypnosis that I had that makes the excuses fade away once I have made up my mind? Is it the self acceptance that comes with time, making everyone else's opinions of me smaller that my own? Who knows....all I know was that the time had finally come for me to get my moneys worth out of the boat!!!
But it took until day five of our trip for me to actually do it. I knew I'd do it, but I just couldn't seem to line anything up time wise with Lucy's naps and when the boat was heading out. In all honesty, I could have said 'can we go now?' and they would have dropped it all to take me. But I didn't. So on Thursday, I decided it would be the day. Steve, Greg, Lucy and Mon (official blog photographer!) jumped in the boat with me and we all got psyched to give it a good shot! Well, we all got psyched for me to give it a good shot! I was ready! And excited!!! Finally my time had come.
And it must be said that Steve has taught many many many beginners behind our boat how to get up. He knows what he is talking about, and how to convey the message of what you need to do to achieve the purpose, so I was pumped to have him there instructing me. I honestly knew deep down that if I just kept trying for as long as I could I would get it. And so, as with the Stand Up Paddle board yesterday, I have some awesome and slightly ungraceful pics to share with you......check them out!
P.S Great work on the pics Monica Imrie!
Steve has been one of Greg's main men for as long as I can remember. I actually met them both on the same night, at a friends 18th birthday party. Although Steve thinks we first met a little while later, and his first memory of me is not one I wish to remember and cannot help going bright red anytime he refers to 'when he first met me', because I know he has it wrong and I know what he is thinking. Ka Boom! Embarrassment head explosion!
But despite this discrepancy he has grown to be one of my best male buddies. We have shared many a deep and meaningful conversation about grief, tragedy, sadness, faith, hope, and happiness. He is also one of my favourite drinking buddies (sorry girls, but being twice your size I fail to feel the effects at the same speed as you, frowny face - wish I did though, would be more fun and cheaper!). He is also a musical genius with vocals and the guitar so I love to sing with him whenever I get the chance. He is a caring guy who loves Greg, Lucy and I as family as we do him and his family too. We are a real little family together. In fact, in 2007 when they returned from living 6 months in the UK, Steve and his wife Kat moved in with us for a while. Then you can add in Andy and Amy and you have our little Supra family. Lame name guys! Who calls themselves a Supra family. Well, don't get all carried away...its the brand of the boat we all own together...so it just happened. And yes we have Supra hats, but they were given to us for free!!! For our holiday, Steve was my personal trainer #2.
So as mentioned previously, Steve has been itching for years to teach me how to get up wakeboarding and has been quite confident all along that I would be able to do it no worries! Me? I didn't think so. I had honestly given it my all and I didn't know what I could possibly do that was any different to what I had done before. So after 9 years of rejecting the opportunity to try wakeboarding, and 4 years of actually owning my own part in a very fancy wakeboarding board I made the choice that our houseboat trip on the Murray would be the time. And I don't know what is different now, why I have come to this point. Is it that I want Lucy to grow up taking all the opportunities she is offered and having an awesome time? Is it the hypnosis that I had that makes the excuses fade away once I have made up my mind? Is it the self acceptance that comes with time, making everyone else's opinions of me smaller that my own? Who knows....all I know was that the time had finally come for me to get my moneys worth out of the boat!!!
But it took until day five of our trip for me to actually do it. I knew I'd do it, but I just couldn't seem to line anything up time wise with Lucy's naps and when the boat was heading out. In all honesty, I could have said 'can we go now?' and they would have dropped it all to take me. But I didn't. So on Thursday, I decided it would be the day. Steve, Greg, Lucy and Mon (official blog photographer!) jumped in the boat with me and we all got psyched to give it a good shot! Well, we all got psyched for me to give it a good shot! I was ready! And excited!!! Finally my time had come.
And it must be said that Steve has taught many many many beginners behind our boat how to get up. He knows what he is talking about, and how to convey the message of what you need to do to achieve the purpose, so I was pumped to have him there instructing me. I honestly knew deep down that if I just kept trying for as long as I could I would get it. And so, as with the Stand Up Paddle board yesterday, I have some awesome and slightly ungraceful pics to share with you......check them out!
Alright, so here I am rocking my best wake chick look, whilst telling Steve all the tips I have heard him say over the years to all the beginners. He filled in the blanks and then I was ready to get started. At this point, I was simply excited and pretty sure of myself.
Once I was in, Steve gave me a few last minute tips.... you know, keep hold of the rope and watch out for dirty carp - all the important things you need to know. Clearly, I'm hanging on every word because I wanted so badly to get it right thing time!
Steve giving me his words of advice and encouragement...and looking mega cool too.
And that is how quickly each try went! The force on your hands and arms is ridiculous as you try to hang on for dear life to a rope that is trying it's best to yank you out of the water. To make it slightly tougher, it also feels like the entire body of water you are floating it doesn't want to let you go and it resists your every move! And when you are overweight as I am, your arm muscles just don't feel strong enough to hold on. So what do you do? You try again. And again. And again! And then add at least 15 more times in there before you could see me actually getting somewhere. But you know what?
I was still grinning from ear to ear. And man I wanted it to happen, I was so not willing to return to the boat, or to this blog without some kind of success!!! I just gritted my teeth (it's alright, there is actually a pic coming up of me doing just that) and tried and tried and tried. We tried different methods, placing weight at different points, moving this way and that. My arms were burning. My palms of my hands were developing blisters because the rope kept snapping out of them. But I just kept thinking, I'll give it another shot. And another. We must have been trying and falling for about 30 minutes at least, before all of a sudden, I was getting closer and closer to getting up. And finally........
Aaaaaaaaaw..............Lucy fell asleep at this point........
Hold on one last time Lauren - do not let go....
Grit those teeth girl but DO NOT LET GO!!! YOU HOLD ON! YOU ARE ALMOST UP!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I'M UP.
SHIT, WHAT DO I DO NOW!??????
Oh this is what you do! Hahahaha! SUCCESS! Sweet sweet well deserved, long awaited success. And remember yesterday I talked of pure delight. Here it was again kids, absolute delight. And oh my, can I tell you the amazing feeling of being up? Because for all the times I had tried wakeboarding, I hadn't succeeded in getting up, I only knew how it felt to struggle through the wall of water trying to get above it. But let me tell you once I was up, I felt like I was walking on water. I felt completely weightless and free, flying along the top of the water, like I was doing a completely different activity to the one I had been participating in 2 seconds ago. Just then, it was hard, resistance training. But now it was freedom from the resistance, even if it did only last for 10 seconds or so.
Hey, can you see the delight in this pic!? And you know what, the following day I could hardly move. Poor Lucy wasn't feeling well and just wanted to be picked up, so I had to move but let me tell you each time I picked her up I struggled big time. But did I regret it? Not for one single second. And you know what else? I got out that following day and did it all again, except this time....I got up more often than not, and I got to get some more time skimming across the top of the mighty Murray to feel that amazing rush. And I was so pleased that I tried again. Even though I could hardly lift Lucy, I went again. And I was better the second day, and I wakeboarded for further than I thought I would/could and I got to face the board sideways and actually try and learn to find my balance. It was incredible.
And as I was reflecting on my experience with Greg later that evening, he said something I will forever hold dear to my heart....'Bub, you are the MOST determined person I have ever seen behind our boat. You just don't give up, and you weren't getting frustrated. You just kept going and going'. And he was right. I was going to give it everything I had in me to make it work cause I wanted it so badly. And am I proud of myself, and so glad he saw that determination in me too, because he too was so proud of my efforts.
And now? I can't wait til I get out and give it another go. I honestly never understand why Greg and our friends enjoyed wakeboarding so much, when all I saw was their injuries....why would you want to do something you constantly hurt yourself in? Well, their injuries are actually rare, and I see now how much fun it can be. And I am just itching to get out there and do even better than I did last time! And I love that I gave it a shot and I am grateful Steve can teach people so well and see exactly what needs to happen. You know, it was the smallest thing that needed changing. Because when he saw me try the first time he said I was already almost there. And from that moment, he relaxed in confidence of my ability, which made me relax too.
So Steve, thank you for helping me, encouraging me and celebrating my win once we got past that stupid other boat. I owe you a beer. Or a red. Or something else enjoyable over a dinner with our lovely families.
Oh and guys, I'm not finished....because I have EVEN MORE to share with you tomorrow.
P.S Great work on the pics Monica Imrie!
Ciao for now!
LG, Life's Great!
Wednesday, 21 March 2012
A Truly Astonishing Week - Part 1...Micka!!!
A Turning Point In My Life....
There are moments in my life that have caused me to feel pure and unadulterated delight. The delight a child feels on Christmas morning, the pure happiness and glee that lights up their eyes and makes them talk about it for days, weeks, years to come. Finally delivering Lucy into the world was pure delight. Hearing Greg say he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, pure delight. Hearing that my best friend had come through a risky surgery with flying colours and to later hear that they had got all the tumour...PURE DELIGHT!
These precious moments have been far outweighed though, by moments of insecurity, fear and embarrassment. And I could spend the rest of this week talking about all of those moments, because there is always one more story about how I was too scared to try something new, too afraid to hurt myself and too embarrassed to look like a clumsy idiot. But I won't.
Because I have delicious stories of pure delight to share with you this week! Stories that I will hold dear to my heart forever for many reasons! Tales of bravery and success beyond my own belief (albeit possibly within your belief!) and of support and encouragement like no other.
And I don't quite no where to start....or how to write it up. So I want to begin by telling you about my good friend Micka who I have known for 10 years now. Micka and I have always gotten on well and laughed our way through many a conversation together, we have a lot in common. He is a musical genius on the drums and has a great singing voice too. He is also my recent inspiration...he has lost approx 30kgs and changed his whole lifestyle very successfully to become what he wants it to be. A healthy, active life full of activities for him and his family, a well balanced career and he still seems to have time to encourage me in my own challenge to achieve the same. And not just me. It's in his nature to help and encourage everyone! So if you can't tell, I love this man - he is a dear friend and I feel like sharing a little praise. For my holiday, I consider Micka to be my personal trainer #1.
Now, do you realise how far it is to Mildura...when most of the Riverina is in flood? It took us two days of good solid driving with three babies plus three boys in four different cars but we finally got there. And it was like summer! The weather was hot, the water was beautiful, the houseboats were lovely and the flood waters wouldn't be arriving until we were long gone. So it was time to play! I was ready to try the Stand Up Paddle Board.
Oh but hold on...that isn't what happened first! I forgot to mention that during Micka's amazing personal transformation he had learnt a barefoot running technique that he wanted to show me, because I had been asking for tips in increasing my jogging endurance. Now, it is important to mention that on day one of our trip I dropped that final feed with Lucy and stopped breastfeeding completely. So by the 2nd day of our trip, the last thing I felt like doing was give them a good shake up. But he convinced me it'd be worth my while and so I did something I never thought I would ever do. I put on my joggers (and my jogging bra!) and we went up onto the bank where he had a look at my running technique (70 yr old shuffle) and we worked on it for five or ten minutes. And people on both my boat and Micka's were watching us as they fished off the back. And I DIDN'T CARE! I was more interested in getting help to further my capabilities than to worry about anything they might be thinking. But if I was a fly on the wall, I bet everything they were saying was only positive, because that is who my family and friends are.
On the 4th day, Micka and I finally found a time that was convenient for me to give the Stand Up Paddle board a go - and I have some very unglamourous pics to prove it! His wife and my good friend, the beautiful Mon is a bit of a fancy photographer, so I employed her as my official blog photographer for the week so I could report back in accurate style. Now, I can tell you I'm sure it felt way more graceful than what you will see here, but I am friggin proud of myself for giving it a great shot on my first go, getting up on the board with Micka's assistance and paddling down the river and back most of the way...until I fell off again! I certainly got wet...and there was a great deal of laughter. But man, I am just so proud of myself for achieving goal number one and actually being better than I thought I would be at it!
So the rest is history...but fortunately I have pictures for you! I hope they bring you pure delight too! And yes, I realise they aren't the most attractive pics of me, but you know what...I do not care. For they are here to share with you a pivotal moment in my life, and one of the most enjoyable experiences of my holiday! Thanks Mick and Mon for such a fun moment in time!
Ciao for now!
LG, Life's Great!
There are moments in my life that have caused me to feel pure and unadulterated delight. The delight a child feels on Christmas morning, the pure happiness and glee that lights up their eyes and makes them talk about it for days, weeks, years to come. Finally delivering Lucy into the world was pure delight. Hearing Greg say he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, pure delight. Hearing that my best friend had come through a risky surgery with flying colours and to later hear that they had got all the tumour...PURE DELIGHT!
These precious moments have been far outweighed though, by moments of insecurity, fear and embarrassment. And I could spend the rest of this week talking about all of those moments, because there is always one more story about how I was too scared to try something new, too afraid to hurt myself and too embarrassed to look like a clumsy idiot. But I won't.
Because I have delicious stories of pure delight to share with you this week! Stories that I will hold dear to my heart forever for many reasons! Tales of bravery and success beyond my own belief (albeit possibly within your belief!) and of support and encouragement like no other.
And I don't quite no where to start....or how to write it up. So I want to begin by telling you about my good friend Micka who I have known for 10 years now. Micka and I have always gotten on well and laughed our way through many a conversation together, we have a lot in common. He is a musical genius on the drums and has a great singing voice too. He is also my recent inspiration...he has lost approx 30kgs and changed his whole lifestyle very successfully to become what he wants it to be. A healthy, active life full of activities for him and his family, a well balanced career and he still seems to have time to encourage me in my own challenge to achieve the same. And not just me. It's in his nature to help and encourage everyone! So if you can't tell, I love this man - he is a dear friend and I feel like sharing a little praise. For my holiday, I consider Micka to be my personal trainer #1.
Now, do you realise how far it is to Mildura...when most of the Riverina is in flood? It took us two days of good solid driving with three babies plus three boys in four different cars but we finally got there. And it was like summer! The weather was hot, the water was beautiful, the houseboats were lovely and the flood waters wouldn't be arriving until we were long gone. So it was time to play! I was ready to try the Stand Up Paddle Board.
Oh but hold on...that isn't what happened first! I forgot to mention that during Micka's amazing personal transformation he had learnt a barefoot running technique that he wanted to show me, because I had been asking for tips in increasing my jogging endurance. Now, it is important to mention that on day one of our trip I dropped that final feed with Lucy and stopped breastfeeding completely. So by the 2nd day of our trip, the last thing I felt like doing was give them a good shake up. But he convinced me it'd be worth my while and so I did something I never thought I would ever do. I put on my joggers (and my jogging bra!) and we went up onto the bank where he had a look at my running technique (70 yr old shuffle) and we worked on it for five or ten minutes. And people on both my boat and Micka's were watching us as they fished off the back. And I DIDN'T CARE! I was more interested in getting help to further my capabilities than to worry about anything they might be thinking. But if I was a fly on the wall, I bet everything they were saying was only positive, because that is who my family and friends are.
On the 4th day, Micka and I finally found a time that was convenient for me to give the Stand Up Paddle board a go - and I have some very unglamourous pics to prove it! His wife and my good friend, the beautiful Mon is a bit of a fancy photographer, so I employed her as my official blog photographer for the week so I could report back in accurate style. Now, I can tell you I'm sure it felt way more graceful than what you will see here, but I am friggin proud of myself for giving it a great shot on my first go, getting up on the board with Micka's assistance and paddling down the river and back most of the way...until I fell off again! I certainly got wet...and there was a great deal of laughter. But man, I am just so proud of myself for achieving goal number one and actually being better than I thought I would be at it!
So the rest is history...but fortunately I have pictures for you! I hope they bring you pure delight too! And yes, I realise they aren't the most attractive pics of me, but you know what...I do not care. For they are here to share with you a pivotal moment in my life, and one of the most enjoyable experiences of my holiday! Thanks Mick and Mon for such a fun moment in time!
 |
A little bank tuition beforehand always helps, Mon thinks I got way more
info than she did on her first go, but I told her that is probably
because he was more concerned with my ability than hers ;)
So I asked him to give me a demo of how to do it...this doesn't look like a fake fall at all!
Here I am feeling very safe and secure on the board, like every other time I've been on a board (never!), ready to give this a good shot! Eeeeeek!
And off I go, after paddling a little way on my tummy, I managed to
scoot myself up onto my knees. Now, even that is quite difficult you
know, your every tiny move sends the board rocking this way and that
way, so every action requires a counter balance and deep concentration.
Paddle paddle paddle.
Deep concentration.... or a deep fall into the might Murray River!!!
Whoops! Hehehe! I have never laughed so hard trying to do something. I
didn't feel stupid once, just laughed it off and tried again. Let me
tell you, to the first time I tried to get back onto the board, I
thought it was over before it began. I could hardly lift myself up onto
it, but I got it eventually, and it got easier and easier the more often
I did it.
Hehehehe, oops, sorry Micka! Although, I told you he has been working out. LOL! Use the force Loz!
ALRIGHT! Let's try getting up onto my feet, shuffle shuffle shuffle, remember to counter balance and stay steady......
Whoops! And she's in again. Face plant into the Murray.
Hold on a second, I was standing a minute a go....and now I'm on my butt!!!
It was a laugh a minute at this point! Into the drink I go again!
Micka offers a lifeline just as I was getting weary from all my falling,
and helps me stand while he holds the board to allow me to get my
balance on my feet.
And I'm OFF!!! And just as Micka promised, the fast you are going the
easier it is to stay balanced....like a bike. It is the best feeling
paddling away downstream, but man you use all the muscles in your whole
body every single second of the time you are up. You are constantly
balancing, overbalancing, righting yourself and doing it all again. Talk
about an intensive yet fun workout!
Wooohooooooooooooo! Look at me go! I was yelling all the time by this point, cheering myself on and loving it!
That's our houseboats on the side, I even let go of the paddle with one
hand to wave to Lucy when she and Greg came out to cheer me on from the
back deck with all my other buddies too.
Oh there are our houseboats...and the paddle board. Hmmmm, I am just out of this shot after stacking it again.
And one for the camera!?
And to finish the event in perfect style, grace and poise! So much fun
and so pleased I tried it, event though I wasn't sure I'd be able to do
it. I surprised myself and a few others and was so excited by the whole
experience that it taught me to just give things a go, you never know
what you might be capable of.
Ciao for now!
LG, Life's Great!
Friday, 9 March 2012
Hobby Audition #2 - WATER SPORTS!
Pack the life jacket honey, I'm giving it a go!
Ever since I met Greg he has owned a water skiing/wakeboarding boat. In fact, he is now on his 3rd since I met him, with each boat more beautiful than the next. And when I say owned, he has owned part of these boats. At the moment, we share our lovely boat between us and two other couples...and it works perfectly. If any of those couples owned it exclusively, we would all still be first on the invite list to go and spend some time on the boat, so it makes sense for us all to go in together.
So let me count back the years....I think I met Greg in 2002, and I probably had my first boating experience at early 2003. So that's 9 years that he and his buddies (boys and girls alike) have been wakeboarding around me. And 9 years ago, I decided that it was just too scary for me to try...I could get hurt! Actually, I was more worried about embarrassing myself in front of my friends, and Greg once I fell for him, that I didn't have the balls to give it a go. No way!
And Greg, bless his heart...he accepted me for who I was and never pushed the point. He was happy that I came to watch him and to hang out with our friends, so there was no need to pressure me into something I didn't want to do. But I kinda did want to do it. I just felt that as each year flew by, it was too late for me to do it. How could I be a beginner, trying to get up and they were all advancing so well and riding very capably!
Until Summer 2009 when I threw caution to the wind, bought myself a life jacket and told Greg I would give it a go. Now, lesson number one is this.....if you want to learn something, your spouse is rarely the best teacher. Greg is one of the best wakeboarders in the group, so he knows his stuff well....but ask him how to get up. He hasn't had to focus on getting up out of the water for 9 years, so when he was trying to teach me, he couldn't understand how I wasn't getting it. And I was getting frustrated with him, because I finally got the courage to give it a go and I was not getting anywhere. And let me tell you I gave it an awesome go. I didn't give up...not once. I was Miss Determined. Or The Little Engine Who Could (n't). Greg and my dad ended up calling it a day and I was sacked from board riding for the afternoon. Boooooo.
My disappointment was hard to bear but I still held hope that perhaps Steve would be able to coach me into standing up. He is our boat's natural wakeboarding tutor. He seems to be able to describe it more accurately to someone who has no idea. And when he heard I had tried it without him there, he begged of me to let him teach me, to give it another shot. And I considered it. But then Greg's brother John came to try it, and he couldn't get up either. They called him the submarine. Instead of popping up, he sank into the water further and further each time. It was kinda funny. Poor John! So if John couldn't do it, what hope did I have? So no thanks Steve, I will not take you up on your offer. But lesson number two is this....don't give up after your first go!!!
And so here I find myself in 2012, writing a blog about having the courage to try something you have always wanted to do, about finding a hobby, about just giving it a go. About having a healthy lifestyle, about ignoring old excuses and forgetting your insecurities........
And I also find myself packing for a houseboat trip along the Murray River for a week, from this Sunday. Along with the houseboat that we will stay on, we are also taking our wakeboat. You get what I am getting at, don't you? It is TIME! After I started this blog, Steve was around one afternoon helping Greg do something boat related, and I told him. I said 'Steve, I am going to let you teach me to wakeboard'. And with those 11 words, I committed myself to this extremely exciting (terrifying) cause without any further consideration.
And so, last night as I began packing, I say to Greg - 'Honey, make sure you pack my life jacket this time, I told Steve I'd give it a go'. And Greg says to me 'Bub, we always pack it, just in case you decide to give it a go'. All this time, they were all just waiting for me to come around to this decision myself, but all had complete faith that I would if I wanted to. I love this unassuming inclusion, with no pressure whatsoever!
Oh, and it doesn't stop there....
Steve's brother Micka (also holidaying with us) owns a Stand Up Paddle board which I have been itching to give a go. He is going to teach me how to balance and paddle against the mighty Murray river, and get me well red in the face, I'd say. I hear it's an awesome workout and I can't wait to let you know how that one goes!!!
I can't wait to show you all some pics of my attempts at these new hobbies - no matter how embarrassing they may look. I want to show you that I am committed to having an active life, trying things I have previously been too scared too, and that I no longer care what anyone else things of me (well, am working on that last one).
Because those little voices in my head have quietened down a lot lately and I no longer have them telling me all the reasons I shouldn't do something. I only have myself saying that I want to. And so I will.
Ever since I met Greg he has owned a water skiing/wakeboarding boat. In fact, he is now on his 3rd since I met him, with each boat more beautiful than the next. And when I say owned, he has owned part of these boats. At the moment, we share our lovely boat between us and two other couples...and it works perfectly. If any of those couples owned it exclusively, we would all still be first on the invite list to go and spend some time on the boat, so it makes sense for us all to go in together.
So let me count back the years....I think I met Greg in 2002, and I probably had my first boating experience at early 2003. So that's 9 years that he and his buddies (boys and girls alike) have been wakeboarding around me. And 9 years ago, I decided that it was just too scary for me to try...I could get hurt! Actually, I was more worried about embarrassing myself in front of my friends, and Greg once I fell for him, that I didn't have the balls to give it a go. No way!
And Greg, bless his heart...he accepted me for who I was and never pushed the point. He was happy that I came to watch him and to hang out with our friends, so there was no need to pressure me into something I didn't want to do. But I kinda did want to do it. I just felt that as each year flew by, it was too late for me to do it. How could I be a beginner, trying to get up and they were all advancing so well and riding very capably!
Until Summer 2009 when I threw caution to the wind, bought myself a life jacket and told Greg I would give it a go. Now, lesson number one is this.....if you want to learn something, your spouse is rarely the best teacher. Greg is one of the best wakeboarders in the group, so he knows his stuff well....but ask him how to get up. He hasn't had to focus on getting up out of the water for 9 years, so when he was trying to teach me, he couldn't understand how I wasn't getting it. And I was getting frustrated with him, because I finally got the courage to give it a go and I was not getting anywhere. And let me tell you I gave it an awesome go. I didn't give up...not once. I was Miss Determined. Or The Little Engine Who Could (n't). Greg and my dad ended up calling it a day and I was sacked from board riding for the afternoon. Boooooo.
My disappointment was hard to bear but I still held hope that perhaps Steve would be able to coach me into standing up. He is our boat's natural wakeboarding tutor. He seems to be able to describe it more accurately to someone who has no idea. And when he heard I had tried it without him there, he begged of me to let him teach me, to give it another shot. And I considered it. But then Greg's brother John came to try it, and he couldn't get up either. They called him the submarine. Instead of popping up, he sank into the water further and further each time. It was kinda funny. Poor John! So if John couldn't do it, what hope did I have? So no thanks Steve, I will not take you up on your offer. But lesson number two is this....don't give up after your first go!!!
And so here I find myself in 2012, writing a blog about having the courage to try something you have always wanted to do, about finding a hobby, about just giving it a go. About having a healthy lifestyle, about ignoring old excuses and forgetting your insecurities........
And I also find myself packing for a houseboat trip along the Murray River for a week, from this Sunday. Along with the houseboat that we will stay on, we are also taking our wakeboat. You get what I am getting at, don't you? It is TIME! After I started this blog, Steve was around one afternoon helping Greg do something boat related, and I told him. I said 'Steve, I am going to let you teach me to wakeboard'. And with those 11 words, I committed myself to this extremely exciting (terrifying) cause without any further consideration.
And so, last night as I began packing, I say to Greg - 'Honey, make sure you pack my life jacket this time, I told Steve I'd give it a go'. And Greg says to me 'Bub, we always pack it, just in case you decide to give it a go'. All this time, they were all just waiting for me to come around to this decision myself, but all had complete faith that I would if I wanted to. I love this unassuming inclusion, with no pressure whatsoever!
Oh, and it doesn't stop there....
Steve's brother Micka (also holidaying with us) owns a Stand Up Paddle board which I have been itching to give a go. He is going to teach me how to balance and paddle against the mighty Murray river, and get me well red in the face, I'd say. I hear it's an awesome workout and I can't wait to let you know how that one goes!!!
I can't wait to show you all some pics of my attempts at these new hobbies - no matter how embarrassing they may look. I want to show you that I am committed to having an active life, trying things I have previously been too scared too, and that I no longer care what anyone else things of me (well, am working on that last one).
Because those little voices in my head have quietened down a lot lately and I no longer have them telling me all the reasons I shouldn't do something. I only have myself saying that I want to. And so I will.
Watch this space kids, the 40kg challenge has only just begun!!!
See you again on the 19th March.
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
Thursday, 8 March 2012
The Charmed Life Strikes Again!
It will all fall into place at the right time....
People have argued why things happen for many thousands of years. They credit God for the good and Satan for the bad. Or perhaps they blame God for the bad too. Or they say the universe has provided to them the very needs that they put out there for the universe meet. Others believe in fate and luck. Some believe you make your own luck in life.
I think I prescribe to all of the above when I consider my life and the way I live it. I do thank God everyday for my blessings, however informal those thanks are voiced. When I look around and see the gifts and blessings in my life, I feel humbled and grateful that I have been seen as worthy for such riches. I am grateful EVERY SINGLE DAY for Greg and Lucy in my life, for my amazing and wonderful family and my very dear and valued friends. I actually am. Not one day goes by when I don't realise it could have been so very different.
I also believe that I expect my life to be a certain way and so far I have been granted such wishes. Is this me putting out to the 'universe' what I want for my future and the universe ensuring it happens for me? I was talking with my mum about this a little while ago. I was saying how lucky we were to have such an easy baby in Lucy. She replied with an interesting observation... that maybe regardless of Lucy's temperament, we would have always thought she was an easy baby because we were simply grateful to have a healthy baby at all, regardless of behaviour, sleep patterns, or crying. That in comparison to others who have a lot less, none of that stuff would have troubled us and we have always thought we were the lucky ones. Hmmmmmmm.
And it's funny as life happens. Greg and I decided well before we got married that we wanted to have some significant time together before we started our family... to do a little growing up of our own before we became responsible for anyone else. I was 22 when we married, Greg 23, so we were indeed just kids in love. We enjoyed those first 5 years, buying a house, travelling both alone and with friends, and just generally living a good life! But when the agreed time came, our plan fell straight into place and all of a sudden we were gifted with Lucy. And this is the part that I feel must be God.... because I can't believe that just setting your mind to something makes it happen. Are you telling me that wanting to fall pregnant, managing to carry that baby to full term, and then having a healthy child, that all just happened because I willed it into fruition? Why is it then that some couples want children so badly and struggle to make that dream come true? Were they not sending enough good vibes out into the universe? I don't quite think that is the answer.
But to some degree, I also believe you create your own destiny or life path, by making your own choices. You aren't just a victim to a life that is happening to you. You can take an active part in it, and should be expected to do so. Speaking of work the other day, I mentioned I enjoyed climbing the ladder, and successfully winning higher positions. These are the moments in my life when I find myself taking an active role - taking control of my career and trying new roles. I have put myself strategically in the right place to be discovered by my next boss, or to make the right contacts for my next workplace each time I have progressed...and I win my roles because I have a reputation I am proud of. So I don't just feel that this is to be credited simply to luck or to God, because I made a lot of that happen.
I also believe in fate and pure luck. The earliest time I remember feeling lucky was when I won a colouring competition in Kindergarten! I couldn't believe that my picture was the best one!? AWESOME! This was my first taste at winning random things! After that I developed an attitude of 'well, why shouldn't I win it?' and took on Lake Tabourie Christmas holiday bingo with great gusto! Once, I won a minor prize and I chose a massive jar of Vegemite. WINNER! Other times, I made the more economical choice of the meat tray, which I'm sure my parents preferred.
I think it was a mixture of all of these ideas when I got the call yesterday afternoon from a day care centre, telling me I had won the lotto and scored Lucy 3 days, starting the 2nd week of April. The very same week I am due back at work! Oh my stars, I almost danced an Irish jig in my kitchen when I heard this news! Because if you know anything about the current day care situation...it is dire! And believe me, if our mortgage would just pay itself, I'd happily stay home with Lucy until I chose to do something else...but it's back to earning the big bucks for me (at least, I think they are the big bucks). We had been offered positions in January, but had made the choice not to accept because Lucy just wasn't ready yet (neither were we). And with that, we went into trust mode, just assuming that when the time came, something would come up, as it so often has in my life. But as the time drew closer and closer to my supposed return date to work in April, we were becoming more and more anxious about what would happen. And then the phone rang. And our gamble yet again paid off.
But was it luck, or was it my persistent calling every fortnight to show my interest. Was it a logic thing, as I was calling 16 centres each fortnight, so surely one of them was going to come through. Was God looking out for us? Were we honoured for our faith in the situation? Or was the universe paying us our dues of what we expected to happen?
Yet it works both ways....as I then considered who I'd like to blame when the injustices of the world happen. When friends are fighting for their lives, when you lose someone dear to you, when people are persecuted for being different. Surely it can't simply be their bad luck, or God punishing them? I can bet it isn't the universe giving them what they asked for.
I call my life the Charmed Life. It's not to say its all been easy, I have experienced some absolutely devastating and very damaging times in my life that are just too personal to write about here. But I feel that I have been lucky enough to find love early in life, be blessed with a child, put myself in a stable career, and be surrounded by amazing people. I feel like the most bless, luckiest and rewarded girl in the world!
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
People have argued why things happen for many thousands of years. They credit God for the good and Satan for the bad. Or perhaps they blame God for the bad too. Or they say the universe has provided to them the very needs that they put out there for the universe meet. Others believe in fate and luck. Some believe you make your own luck in life.
I think I prescribe to all of the above when I consider my life and the way I live it. I do thank God everyday for my blessings, however informal those thanks are voiced. When I look around and see the gifts and blessings in my life, I feel humbled and grateful that I have been seen as worthy for such riches. I am grateful EVERY SINGLE DAY for Greg and Lucy in my life, for my amazing and wonderful family and my very dear and valued friends. I actually am. Not one day goes by when I don't realise it could have been so very different.
I also believe that I expect my life to be a certain way and so far I have been granted such wishes. Is this me putting out to the 'universe' what I want for my future and the universe ensuring it happens for me? I was talking with my mum about this a little while ago. I was saying how lucky we were to have such an easy baby in Lucy. She replied with an interesting observation... that maybe regardless of Lucy's temperament, we would have always thought she was an easy baby because we were simply grateful to have a healthy baby at all, regardless of behaviour, sleep patterns, or crying. That in comparison to others who have a lot less, none of that stuff would have troubled us and we have always thought we were the lucky ones. Hmmmmmmm.
And it's funny as life happens. Greg and I decided well before we got married that we wanted to have some significant time together before we started our family... to do a little growing up of our own before we became responsible for anyone else. I was 22 when we married, Greg 23, so we were indeed just kids in love. We enjoyed those first 5 years, buying a house, travelling both alone and with friends, and just generally living a good life! But when the agreed time came, our plan fell straight into place and all of a sudden we were gifted with Lucy. And this is the part that I feel must be God.... because I can't believe that just setting your mind to something makes it happen. Are you telling me that wanting to fall pregnant, managing to carry that baby to full term, and then having a healthy child, that all just happened because I willed it into fruition? Why is it then that some couples want children so badly and struggle to make that dream come true? Were they not sending enough good vibes out into the universe? I don't quite think that is the answer.
But to some degree, I also believe you create your own destiny or life path, by making your own choices. You aren't just a victim to a life that is happening to you. You can take an active part in it, and should be expected to do so. Speaking of work the other day, I mentioned I enjoyed climbing the ladder, and successfully winning higher positions. These are the moments in my life when I find myself taking an active role - taking control of my career and trying new roles. I have put myself strategically in the right place to be discovered by my next boss, or to make the right contacts for my next workplace each time I have progressed...and I win my roles because I have a reputation I am proud of. So I don't just feel that this is to be credited simply to luck or to God, because I made a lot of that happen.
I also believe in fate and pure luck. The earliest time I remember feeling lucky was when I won a colouring competition in Kindergarten! I couldn't believe that my picture was the best one!? AWESOME! This was my first taste at winning random things! After that I developed an attitude of 'well, why shouldn't I win it?' and took on Lake Tabourie Christmas holiday bingo with great gusto! Once, I won a minor prize and I chose a massive jar of Vegemite. WINNER! Other times, I made the more economical choice of the meat tray, which I'm sure my parents preferred.
I think it was a mixture of all of these ideas when I got the call yesterday afternoon from a day care centre, telling me I had won the lotto and scored Lucy 3 days, starting the 2nd week of April. The very same week I am due back at work! Oh my stars, I almost danced an Irish jig in my kitchen when I heard this news! Because if you know anything about the current day care situation...it is dire! And believe me, if our mortgage would just pay itself, I'd happily stay home with Lucy until I chose to do something else...but it's back to earning the big bucks for me (at least, I think they are the big bucks). We had been offered positions in January, but had made the choice not to accept because Lucy just wasn't ready yet (neither were we). And with that, we went into trust mode, just assuming that when the time came, something would come up, as it so often has in my life. But as the time drew closer and closer to my supposed return date to work in April, we were becoming more and more anxious about what would happen. And then the phone rang. And our gamble yet again paid off.
But was it luck, or was it my persistent calling every fortnight to show my interest. Was it a logic thing, as I was calling 16 centres each fortnight, so surely one of them was going to come through. Was God looking out for us? Were we honoured for our faith in the situation? Or was the universe paying us our dues of what we expected to happen?
Yet it works both ways....as I then considered who I'd like to blame when the injustices of the world happen. When friends are fighting for their lives, when you lose someone dear to you, when people are persecuted for being different. Surely it can't simply be their bad luck, or God punishing them? I can bet it isn't the universe giving them what they asked for.
I call my life the Charmed Life. It's not to say its all been easy, I have experienced some absolutely devastating and very damaging times in my life that are just too personal to write about here. But I feel that I have been lucky enough to find love early in life, be blessed with a child, put myself in a stable career, and be surrounded by amazing people. I feel like the most bless, luckiest and rewarded girl in the world!
Although I believe in God, I can't say I am on that bandwagon 100%. Because I too believe in self drive, shit happening, and pure luck.
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
A Forgetful Wonder
You'd forget your head if it wasn't attached!
Every year on my school report, my teachers consistently commented on 3 things. The first and most common was something along the lines of 'Lauren talks too much in class'. I am pretty sure this has also been indicated to me during work appraisals...within the past few years! Obviously didn't learn that lesson. The second normally stated something along the lines of 'Lauren can be distracting to other students'...meaning that when I was talking too much (see point #1), it was to the detriment of my fellow classmate's education. And when my fellow classmates were trying their best to concentrate, I would be there in the ear, whispering much more interesting stories. Magically though, even though I was so busy talking and distracting, I still managed to pick up enough to pass through school and occasionally even do well, depending on the subject and how interested I was.
These two statements on my reports weren't actually that bad. I tried my best to convince my parents that they were actually qualities that would help me in life. An ability to communicate with many, a way with words, an influential style. But the third statement, I hated seeing that written down again and again and again.
Lauren needs to be more organised. She often forgets her homework, her permission slips and her textbooks.
Or something to that nature. Year after year after year. And did I ever learn? No! And it wasn't that I had been deliberately rebellious and had decided not to complete any homework...it was actually that I had truly forgotten it was even there. I didn't ever have any kind of excuse planned, because it wasn't until the teacher asked for it that I remembered there was even anything to be done! I actually think that I still have an overdue music assignment, because I just kept forgetting it. Oops!
You know that feeling you get when you ask someone for the time, and then fail to listen so you need to ask again in two seconds? And they look at you incredulously because they had literally JUST told you!? I get that look all the time. Poor Greg (so many of my sentences in my blog start with Poor Greg) gives me this look when I ask him for the 2nd time in five minutes how work was today. 'You just asked me that!?' 'Oh! Did I? I wasn't sure if I had asked it out loud, or if I just thought to ask it.' I called my mum just last month to ask her if she was on the Ghan train holiday she had planned....but she told me, for what was probably the hundredth time, that her holiday was in July and she was simply at the coast. Oops again! The people in my life must suffer terrible frustration.
So, why don't you buy a note book or a calendar so you can write this stuff down, Lauren? I HAVE! I have spent so much money on little pocket calendars, diary's and notebooks, personal organisers, whiteboards, and pin boards....my biggest problem is that then you have to learn to use them! I can't even remember to use my phone calendar properly. Again, I find myself needing to apologise to all who I have stood up over the years, and also to those I have double booked. My apologies, I was born this way and am struggling to change!
It has reared its ugly head recently because Lucy's pram has a few little flaws that need ironing out and I have been putting it off again and again...only to finally realise that I have put it off too long: it is no longer covered by warranty!!! Grrrrrrr! Why oh why didn't I sort it out when I originally noted these issues, back in September. What on earth was I waiting for? A miracle to heal my pram? Someone else to do it for me? Why do these administration tasks seem so scary and overwhelming to me?
I can get up in front of 500 people and sing. I can teach a room of 20 adults for a week and I can write a five day a week blog for all to see. But I struggle to file our household paperwork. I can't stay on top of the important dates in our foreseeable future, and I wish someone else would look after all the forms you have to complete when you want the Government to help you pay for childcare.
But as always, I think the answer is simply to do it. I do feel better when I have done the filing, almost like I require a pat on the back or a little badge that says Happy Little Filer! I do like feeling organised and knowing when I have plans in advance before that reminder pops up the morning of said event. I certainly prefer to have items fixed within warranty time frames. I'm kicking myself for that situation.
But still I resist. Because secretly I fancy the idea of living like a hippy, of throwing caution to the wind and living day to day.
Every year on my school report, my teachers consistently commented on 3 things. The first and most common was something along the lines of 'Lauren talks too much in class'. I am pretty sure this has also been indicated to me during work appraisals...within the past few years! Obviously didn't learn that lesson. The second normally stated something along the lines of 'Lauren can be distracting to other students'...meaning that when I was talking too much (see point #1), it was to the detriment of my fellow classmate's education. And when my fellow classmates were trying their best to concentrate, I would be there in the ear, whispering much more interesting stories. Magically though, even though I was so busy talking and distracting, I still managed to pick up enough to pass through school and occasionally even do well, depending on the subject and how interested I was.
These two statements on my reports weren't actually that bad. I tried my best to convince my parents that they were actually qualities that would help me in life. An ability to communicate with many, a way with words, an influential style. But the third statement, I hated seeing that written down again and again and again.
Lauren needs to be more organised. She often forgets her homework, her permission slips and her textbooks.
Or something to that nature. Year after year after year. And did I ever learn? No! And it wasn't that I had been deliberately rebellious and had decided not to complete any homework...it was actually that I had truly forgotten it was even there. I didn't ever have any kind of excuse planned, because it wasn't until the teacher asked for it that I remembered there was even anything to be done! I actually think that I still have an overdue music assignment, because I just kept forgetting it. Oops!
You know that feeling you get when you ask someone for the time, and then fail to listen so you need to ask again in two seconds? And they look at you incredulously because they had literally JUST told you!? I get that look all the time. Poor Greg (so many of my sentences in my blog start with Poor Greg) gives me this look when I ask him for the 2nd time in five minutes how work was today. 'You just asked me that!?' 'Oh! Did I? I wasn't sure if I had asked it out loud, or if I just thought to ask it.' I called my mum just last month to ask her if she was on the Ghan train holiday she had planned....but she told me, for what was probably the hundredth time, that her holiday was in July and she was simply at the coast. Oops again! The people in my life must suffer terrible frustration.
So, why don't you buy a note book or a calendar so you can write this stuff down, Lauren? I HAVE! I have spent so much money on little pocket calendars, diary's and notebooks, personal organisers, whiteboards, and pin boards....my biggest problem is that then you have to learn to use them! I can't even remember to use my phone calendar properly. Again, I find myself needing to apologise to all who I have stood up over the years, and also to those I have double booked. My apologies, I was born this way and am struggling to change!
It has reared its ugly head recently because Lucy's pram has a few little flaws that need ironing out and I have been putting it off again and again...only to finally realise that I have put it off too long: it is no longer covered by warranty!!! Grrrrrrr! Why oh why didn't I sort it out when I originally noted these issues, back in September. What on earth was I waiting for? A miracle to heal my pram? Someone else to do it for me? Why do these administration tasks seem so scary and overwhelming to me?
I can get up in front of 500 people and sing. I can teach a room of 20 adults for a week and I can write a five day a week blog for all to see. But I struggle to file our household paperwork. I can't stay on top of the important dates in our foreseeable future, and I wish someone else would look after all the forms you have to complete when you want the Government to help you pay for childcare.
But as always, I think the answer is simply to do it. I do feel better when I have done the filing, almost like I require a pat on the back or a little badge that says Happy Little Filer! I do like feeling organised and knowing when I have plans in advance before that reminder pops up the morning of said event. I certainly prefer to have items fixed within warranty time frames. I'm kicking myself for that situation.
But still I resist. Because secretly I fancy the idea of living like a hippy, of throwing caution to the wind and living day to day.
To those of you out there who enjoy filing, I will never understand you.
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
Tuesday, 6 March 2012
I Know Best.....You Don't.
The judgement that comes with becoming a new parent...
Years ago, I developed an idea of what kind of mum I would like to be. During my work as a nanny, I saw so many differing styles, that it more grew into a list of what I didn't want to do/be. I didn't want to spoil my child. I didn't want to encourage hurtful or whiny behaviour. I wanted an active child, rather than pass on my previous bad habits of eating poorly and exercising too little. I wanted to teach my child to be resilient, physically and emotionally.
As the years have passed, we have had several close friends have children and we have observed their parenting skills and styles with a keen eye, learning from them so many wonderful things. Like taking the child away from public ears to discipline them, so they don't have to lose face or be embarrassed. Like letting your kids stay up for special occasions, even though they will pay for it the next day. Like teaching your children their voice is important and that we will listen to them, but to not interrupt.
And of course, then Greg and I would talk about how we grew up and what we liked about our childhood and what we didn't. I liked that both my parents have always told me and my siblings how much they love us. They are openly affectionate and vocal about their feelings, and as a result I, too, am very expressive. Greg loves the time that he spent with his parents, learning about the circle of life on the farm, developing his amazing work ethic and determination to do something the right the first time instead of cutting corners. We both love going on family picnics.....but what we didn't realise was this can mean something completely different, depending on which family you came from.
It was several years ago now, on a lovely sunny day...one of the rare weekends when we didn't have anything booked on the Saturday. Greg suggested we pack a picnic and go and find a nice place by the water. In my mind, I had us placed at the Cotter - a family favourite of mine for as long as I could remember. Or maybe Point Hut Crossing? Either way, I was going to enjoy a 30 minute drive through the scenic Canberra outskirts and we would set up our picnic and lie around talking of our future together, cuddling and kissing until our hearts were content.
Instead, we packed our picnic and jumped in the car and hit the road. As Greg was driving this time, he thought he might take me somewhere new so I had to delete above expectations of locations, and wait and see. And we drove and drove.....and drove. Greg took me along winding country roads and we checked out the new wind farm they had set up out near Bungendore (at least I think that is where it was). We kept driving so we could go and see what 'they' (whoever they were) had planned for the mine near Tarago. And then we continued driving because Greg couldn't quite remember how far along the road we needed to go to get to the location he had in mind. To understand the context, you must know that I skipped breakfast that morning, that we had now been driving for at least TWO HOURS and I had expected to have eaten my lunch and be in the spooning position by now on a picnic rug in a shade of a beautiful tree. I did not expect to be still sitting in the car at this stage, looking at one boring country town after the next, ready to eat my seat belt if it didn't end soon!
Does anyone else get cranky when they are hungry? I get cranky and then extremely sarcastic.
G: They are talking about starting work in this mine again.
L: Great. Maybe we can move to Tarago so you can work here....it seems like a happening place. Can't think of anywhere I'd rather be!
G: Now, I can't really remember where the turn off is, so we might have to go this way and see, and what's the worst that happens? We have to come back and try the next one?
L: Yes, lets try all these little turn offs, because who knows where we might end up - in fact, lets keep driving for the rest of the day. At least then we won't have to put the picnic blanket down and cuddle each other!
Poor Greg. Here he was showing me the best sights Australia has to offer within driving range of Canberra and here I was wishing we were already there (2 hours ago!). In his mind, this is what you did when you went on a picnic....you checked out everything that was going on, and you went to investigate all the little nooks and crannies. By the time you got to your picnic, you pretty much only had time to eat and then you came home. Me? I thought he was being romantic. Frowny face. I thought he wanted to lie by the water somewhere for hours on end, discussing all things Lauren and Greg, and playing 'how will we spend our lotto millions'. Actually, he wanted to go near water so he could see if the water flow had risen from recent rainfall. Ah, how our expectations differed so!
It turned out to be a beautiful picnic after all and we both got what we wanted. But this is just one example of how we both thought our way was the best way, and it's the same with parenting.
The best thing about 2011 was that we were among several of our friends and families to have babies. The hardest and most wonderful part of it all, is that we have to resist the urge to compare the babies, or our parenting styles. It is a rich tapestry of so many families coming into play, with each mother and father coming from a different place, with different expectations, and with differing opinions of the importance of each moment. Each of the couples chooses what suits them best, and the other couples are respectful in acknowledging that of course we all work differently. And it's not just because of our own experiences but also because each of our children are completely their own person too.
I'm sure most parents think they have done a great job of raising their child, and wish to share with the world how savvy they are. So within our little group of family and friends, I think we have all struck an unspoken agreement to simply respect each others styles and leave it at that. No one couple is right....we all are right in our own little families, figuring it out as best we can and learning as we go. And I am learning lots from all the beautiful mothers around me, and I hope they learn a little from me too.
As for my parenting style? I am very much a laid back parent. I can't stop watching my daughter all the time and am so proud of all her little achievements. I let her fall when it is safe to do so, and try and catch her when I can see she may hurt herself. I try and let her have free roam of the house now that she is on the go, but block off the rooms I wouldn't like her to play in without me. I feed her all types of foods, but am watchful of her intake to ensure she is getting enough. I let her settle herself to sleep, but if she becomes distressed I go to her and calm her down again. I let her play with almost everything she can reach as long as it is safe and I leave her to her own devices (in our safe house) so I can hang out the washing.
That is the kind of parent that I am. It is right for Lucy. When the next comes along I may need to adjust myself to suit. But what I have worked out here may not apply to anyone else's child, so unless I am asked, I try my best not to advise others. And all the other parents I know are also doing an awesome job for their children. Because all the little babies I know are happy, healthy, active and engaged little people who couldn't be better, even if you tried.
So next time I try to give you unwanted advice, please forgive and forget it. I know you'll ask if you want it. I just think I've so much to share of all the things I have learnt about Lucy, I occasionally get carried away.
Years ago, I developed an idea of what kind of mum I would like to be. During my work as a nanny, I saw so many differing styles, that it more grew into a list of what I didn't want to do/be. I didn't want to spoil my child. I didn't want to encourage hurtful or whiny behaviour. I wanted an active child, rather than pass on my previous bad habits of eating poorly and exercising too little. I wanted to teach my child to be resilient, physically and emotionally.
As the years have passed, we have had several close friends have children and we have observed their parenting skills and styles with a keen eye, learning from them so many wonderful things. Like taking the child away from public ears to discipline them, so they don't have to lose face or be embarrassed. Like letting your kids stay up for special occasions, even though they will pay for it the next day. Like teaching your children their voice is important and that we will listen to them, but to not interrupt.
And of course, then Greg and I would talk about how we grew up and what we liked about our childhood and what we didn't. I liked that both my parents have always told me and my siblings how much they love us. They are openly affectionate and vocal about their feelings, and as a result I, too, am very expressive. Greg loves the time that he spent with his parents, learning about the circle of life on the farm, developing his amazing work ethic and determination to do something the right the first time instead of cutting corners. We both love going on family picnics.....but what we didn't realise was this can mean something completely different, depending on which family you came from.
It was several years ago now, on a lovely sunny day...one of the rare weekends when we didn't have anything booked on the Saturday. Greg suggested we pack a picnic and go and find a nice place by the water. In my mind, I had us placed at the Cotter - a family favourite of mine for as long as I could remember. Or maybe Point Hut Crossing? Either way, I was going to enjoy a 30 minute drive through the scenic Canberra outskirts and we would set up our picnic and lie around talking of our future together, cuddling and kissing until our hearts were content.
Instead, we packed our picnic and jumped in the car and hit the road. As Greg was driving this time, he thought he might take me somewhere new so I had to delete above expectations of locations, and wait and see. And we drove and drove.....and drove. Greg took me along winding country roads and we checked out the new wind farm they had set up out near Bungendore (at least I think that is where it was). We kept driving so we could go and see what 'they' (whoever they were) had planned for the mine near Tarago. And then we continued driving because Greg couldn't quite remember how far along the road we needed to go to get to the location he had in mind. To understand the context, you must know that I skipped breakfast that morning, that we had now been driving for at least TWO HOURS and I had expected to have eaten my lunch and be in the spooning position by now on a picnic rug in a shade of a beautiful tree. I did not expect to be still sitting in the car at this stage, looking at one boring country town after the next, ready to eat my seat belt if it didn't end soon!
Does anyone else get cranky when they are hungry? I get cranky and then extremely sarcastic.
G: They are talking about starting work in this mine again.
L: Great. Maybe we can move to Tarago so you can work here....it seems like a happening place. Can't think of anywhere I'd rather be!
G: Now, I can't really remember where the turn off is, so we might have to go this way and see, and what's the worst that happens? We have to come back and try the next one?
L: Yes, lets try all these little turn offs, because who knows where we might end up - in fact, lets keep driving for the rest of the day. At least then we won't have to put the picnic blanket down and cuddle each other!
Poor Greg. Here he was showing me the best sights Australia has to offer within driving range of Canberra and here I was wishing we were already there (2 hours ago!). In his mind, this is what you did when you went on a picnic....you checked out everything that was going on, and you went to investigate all the little nooks and crannies. By the time you got to your picnic, you pretty much only had time to eat and then you came home. Me? I thought he was being romantic. Frowny face. I thought he wanted to lie by the water somewhere for hours on end, discussing all things Lauren and Greg, and playing 'how will we spend our lotto millions'. Actually, he wanted to go near water so he could see if the water flow had risen from recent rainfall. Ah, how our expectations differed so!
It turned out to be a beautiful picnic after all and we both got what we wanted. But this is just one example of how we both thought our way was the best way, and it's the same with parenting.
The best thing about 2011 was that we were among several of our friends and families to have babies. The hardest and most wonderful part of it all, is that we have to resist the urge to compare the babies, or our parenting styles. It is a rich tapestry of so many families coming into play, with each mother and father coming from a different place, with different expectations, and with differing opinions of the importance of each moment. Each of the couples chooses what suits them best, and the other couples are respectful in acknowledging that of course we all work differently. And it's not just because of our own experiences but also because each of our children are completely their own person too.
I'm sure most parents think they have done a great job of raising their child, and wish to share with the world how savvy they are. So within our little group of family and friends, I think we have all struck an unspoken agreement to simply respect each others styles and leave it at that. No one couple is right....we all are right in our own little families, figuring it out as best we can and learning as we go. And I am learning lots from all the beautiful mothers around me, and I hope they learn a little from me too.
As for my parenting style? I am very much a laid back parent. I can't stop watching my daughter all the time and am so proud of all her little achievements. I let her fall when it is safe to do so, and try and catch her when I can see she may hurt herself. I try and let her have free roam of the house now that she is on the go, but block off the rooms I wouldn't like her to play in without me. I feed her all types of foods, but am watchful of her intake to ensure she is getting enough. I let her settle herself to sleep, but if she becomes distressed I go to her and calm her down again. I let her play with almost everything she can reach as long as it is safe and I leave her to her own devices (in our safe house) so I can hang out the washing.
That is the kind of parent that I am. It is right for Lucy. When the next comes along I may need to adjust myself to suit. But what I have worked out here may not apply to anyone else's child, so unless I am asked, I try my best not to advise others. And all the other parents I know are also doing an awesome job for their children. Because all the little babies I know are happy, healthy, active and engaged little people who couldn't be better, even if you tried.
So next time I try to give you unwanted advice, please forgive and forget it. I know you'll ask if you want it. I just think I've so much to share of all the things I have learnt about Lucy, I occasionally get carried away.
My most fulfilled role yet...Lucy's mum. xoxox
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
Monday, 5 March 2012
Entertaining/Oversharing!
Um, that is quite personal, don't you think?
I make friends by telling them my life's story. If I like you, I will then keep you amused with funny little stories of recent events, and amusing memories of times gone by so we can better get to know each other. When you ask me on a Monday morning what I got up to at the weekend, I will always have a story for you. It is rare that you will get a one word answer from me. And along with my stories and memories, you too will normally add your experiences and laughs, and so a friendship develops based on sharing, laughter and honesty. Okay, well occasionally it isn't completely honest....there may be a little enhancement of ones story to make it a little funnier, but who doesn't love a little exaggeration?
So I feel I have always been an open book. If I am struggling with something, most likely you will hear about it. I am not one to internalise anything but I prefer to flesh it out with at least 20 people before I finally figure out the answer to my problem, or find acceptance in a situation I can't change. It's my process of coping. It's why they say communication is one of my strengths. Perhaps discretion and privacy may be my weaknesses? But that is my choice, because normally I am sharing about my own life, my own issues, my own experiences and my own opinions.
I love holding the lime light, making people laugh as I regale them with dramatic events (see blog #3 re getting stuck in revolving door) or the weekend's happenings....like the time I had a girls night in our first home as a married couple. I sent Greg out for the evening and I had about 12 girls around, to eat delicious treats and talk girly stuff. We did facials and our nails, and of course had pillow fights in our underwear (yes boys, that really happens - please read in my most sarcastic tone). And as the night continued on and drinks were had, one of the girls revealed she had recently become a piercer. Is that what you call someone who can pierce people, in their ears, belly buttons, nose and anywhere else you might choose? That night, 11 girls got some kind of piercing done. And much to our horror and amusement, Greg came home right at the end of the shenanigans, as Evelyn leaned over me on the bed, and all the girls were crowded into our bedroom like a little private show....'What the hell is going on here!?' Cue all girls to dissolve into giggles and try explaining our way out of a sticky situation....'Oh no Greg, it isn't what it looks like. She is just piercing Lauren's belly button! We all got piercings tonight' - cause clearly that is the better option??? Ah, my piercing party. Fun times!
It isn't really a surprise to many who know me that I am so frank and honest in this blog of my life, because I simply am this way in person anyway. I suppose the only difference is that in person, I can choose to tell you these stories or not. I can choose to get to know you, or I can choose not to share myself with you. But the blog shares regardless. Obviously, I don't mind or I wouldn't be writing such intimate details.
Yet, even I have my limits. You won't hear me talk on this blog about a decision I made that has had a great burden to bear. You won't hear me discuss losing the most precious family member who we didn't have long enough with. I will never share with you about the intimacy's of the bedroom, or about the parts of my past that I believe are someone else's fault, or how I struggle to forget those who have emotionally hurt me for many years. The reasons that I don't tell these stories are because they don't just belong to me. They are also the stories of those I love and I don't own the rights.
So even though it seems to be a tell all exclusive on my life, there are limits to what is too precious to my heart for the entertainment of others. I have my own standards to uphold. But often as I post another honest and completely open blog on my feelings, my experiences, or my life generally, I smile because I am sure so many of you out there may be reading along slightly incredulously, that I have yet again let it all hang out for the world to see (read!). Friends and family have commented on my blog, calling me courageous and brave. I laughed. I am simply sharing with the world the stories, ideas, experiences and memories that I think will be entertaining, that I want to talk about!
Because I have come to a point of realisation in that people judge me already, whether they know this stuff or not. Perhaps this is a way to become more understood. Perhaps I just enjoy writing about myself, because I feel I have a lot to give. And maybe I know others out there will benefit from my honesty, will actually be grateful to know that someone has felt the same way, that there is someone speaking their truth too. So many people have reached out to me after I have posted a blog, thanking me for understanding what they have been through. Many people have even asked me if the blog may have been about them? I can tell you most blogs are about me and what I have discovered and feel I need to share with the world.
If my blog has people talking about their real issues, then this blog has already achieved more than I could have possibly hoped. I actually just wanted to tell a few stories and keep an online journal of sorts in the beginning, about my quest for a hobby and about life in general. If people are braver because they see they are not alone, or they see me trying to be courageous too, then I am delighted! And if people realise that there own insecurities, fears and embarrassments can be forgotten, forgiven, and conquered, then we are all in this together.
I make friends by telling them my life's story. If I like you, I will then keep you amused with funny little stories of recent events, and amusing memories of times gone by so we can better get to know each other. When you ask me on a Monday morning what I got up to at the weekend, I will always have a story for you. It is rare that you will get a one word answer from me. And along with my stories and memories, you too will normally add your experiences and laughs, and so a friendship develops based on sharing, laughter and honesty. Okay, well occasionally it isn't completely honest....there may be a little enhancement of ones story to make it a little funnier, but who doesn't love a little exaggeration?
So I feel I have always been an open book. If I am struggling with something, most likely you will hear about it. I am not one to internalise anything but I prefer to flesh it out with at least 20 people before I finally figure out the answer to my problem, or find acceptance in a situation I can't change. It's my process of coping. It's why they say communication is one of my strengths. Perhaps discretion and privacy may be my weaknesses? But that is my choice, because normally I am sharing about my own life, my own issues, my own experiences and my own opinions.
I love holding the lime light, making people laugh as I regale them with dramatic events (see blog #3 re getting stuck in revolving door) or the weekend's happenings....like the time I had a girls night in our first home as a married couple. I sent Greg out for the evening and I had about 12 girls around, to eat delicious treats and talk girly stuff. We did facials and our nails, and of course had pillow fights in our underwear (yes boys, that really happens - please read in my most sarcastic tone). And as the night continued on and drinks were had, one of the girls revealed she had recently become a piercer. Is that what you call someone who can pierce people, in their ears, belly buttons, nose and anywhere else you might choose? That night, 11 girls got some kind of piercing done. And much to our horror and amusement, Greg came home right at the end of the shenanigans, as Evelyn leaned over me on the bed, and all the girls were crowded into our bedroom like a little private show....'What the hell is going on here!?' Cue all girls to dissolve into giggles and try explaining our way out of a sticky situation....'Oh no Greg, it isn't what it looks like. She is just piercing Lauren's belly button! We all got piercings tonight' - cause clearly that is the better option??? Ah, my piercing party. Fun times!
It isn't really a surprise to many who know me that I am so frank and honest in this blog of my life, because I simply am this way in person anyway. I suppose the only difference is that in person, I can choose to tell you these stories or not. I can choose to get to know you, or I can choose not to share myself with you. But the blog shares regardless. Obviously, I don't mind or I wouldn't be writing such intimate details.
Yet, even I have my limits. You won't hear me talk on this blog about a decision I made that has had a great burden to bear. You won't hear me discuss losing the most precious family member who we didn't have long enough with. I will never share with you about the intimacy's of the bedroom, or about the parts of my past that I believe are someone else's fault, or how I struggle to forget those who have emotionally hurt me for many years. The reasons that I don't tell these stories are because they don't just belong to me. They are also the stories of those I love and I don't own the rights.
So even though it seems to be a tell all exclusive on my life, there are limits to what is too precious to my heart for the entertainment of others. I have my own standards to uphold. But often as I post another honest and completely open blog on my feelings, my experiences, or my life generally, I smile because I am sure so many of you out there may be reading along slightly incredulously, that I have yet again let it all hang out for the world to see (read!). Friends and family have commented on my blog, calling me courageous and brave. I laughed. I am simply sharing with the world the stories, ideas, experiences and memories that I think will be entertaining, that I want to talk about!
Because I have come to a point of realisation in that people judge me already, whether they know this stuff or not. Perhaps this is a way to become more understood. Perhaps I just enjoy writing about myself, because I feel I have a lot to give. And maybe I know others out there will benefit from my honesty, will actually be grateful to know that someone has felt the same way, that there is someone speaking their truth too. So many people have reached out to me after I have posted a blog, thanking me for understanding what they have been through. Many people have even asked me if the blog may have been about them? I can tell you most blogs are about me and what I have discovered and feel I need to share with the world.
If my blog has people talking about their real issues, then this blog has already achieved more than I could have possibly hoped. I actually just wanted to tell a few stories and keep an online journal of sorts in the beginning, about my quest for a hobby and about life in general. If people are braver because they see they are not alone, or they see me trying to be courageous too, then I am delighted! And if people realise that there own insecurities, fears and embarrassments can be forgotten, forgiven, and conquered, then we are all in this together.
Sharing is caring, right?
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
Friday, 2 March 2012
The Hardest Day of Parenting, Yet!
Tough love....who is it harder for?
Since she arrived on the 23rd of April, Lucy and I have been joined at the hip (well, at the breast, mostly). She became my new sidekick, my new accessory if you will (a very cute one too!) being dragged around to this and that. I was absolutely smitten with her and wanted to show her off at any opportunity I could. And very quickly I realised if I fed her and changed her, she would generally sleep in the pram so it was coffees and magazines for me. Aaaaaah, fresh air! God knows after I spent the latter part of my pregnancy housebound, I had a lot of living to be done!
Greg was home for the first week and then only worked 3 days a week for the next 6 weeks, so he was around alot too. We enjoyed taking her downtown for coffees, going on little family picnics, and heading around to our friends places where she would be cuddled until her heart was content. But once Greg went back to work he was surprised by how often I was still getting out. I'd go to mothers groups, movies, shopping, visits, and for walks around the park. I didn't realise until after the fact that I had hated being so trapped inside.
So for 10 months now, it's been Lucy and I, a little team of Granger girls. As she is breastfed and didn't care for the bottle until just recently I couldn't really go anywhere without her. And she has been a real mummy's girl as well, despite Greg's willingness and want to settle her and do his half of the parenting work, she has mostly preferred me.
Until a few weeks ago! When all of a sudden my highly esteemed place in Lucy's heart as number one shifted and we saw her do a big swing towards Greg's side of the table. And I was waiting for it, but didn't realise it would come so soon. I knew there would eventually be a time when mum got boring and daddy (who is at work for 8 hours a day) is the most wonderful thing in the world. Now, don't get all reassuring on me, I know how much my daughter loves and adores me, and that when she is sad or upset I am the one she turns to. I am simply saying that Greg has started to really come into her affections the way he has hoped for so long now.
You should see her little face light up when she sees the door of his shed lift as he reverses his car in. She looks at me, and then back out the window. She can hear him open the back door and she starts crawling towards the laundry door expectantly. And when he opens that door, oh my gosh, it is like all her Christmas's have come at once. She squeals in delight! Jumps up and down on her little knees and giggles at him. And all he has done is smile. The most beautiful, special, and intimate moments of my heart, right there for all to see.
Now Lucy has been more than we could have hoped for in a daughter, and we are so thankful everyday that she is a delight to us. Lately she has been sleeping terribly (by lately, I mean for a few months now) and it has reached a head this week. With no more than 2 hours in a row most nights, she wakes and wants to feed each time. After seeking several professionals for advice, I decided she wasn't feeding from hunger, but for comfort. And I also saw that without changing something, I was quickly heading down a path of destruction myself. Believe me, after crying without a pause for 2 hours on Friday night because my heavy sense of overwhelming stress and fatigue was too much too bear, Greg and I both realised we couldn't keep going how we were.
And it wasn't just for selfish reasons of 'hmmm, I'd like some more sleep'. But out of necessity because I wasn't actually surviving anymore. The Lauren that has coped remarkably well from day one was falling apart in a big tired mess. The same one who everyone had said had taken to motherhood like a duck to water, who took all things in her stride and who coped well with anything Lucy could throw at her. Well, this one and the same girl was crying out for help for the first time, and it was extremely tough to do. Admitting that in fact you didn't have it all together.
And there were so many telltale signs of my lack of togetherness. The house was a thousand times worse than normal (I mean, Greg and I struggle to keep it together on good days so I can see how that might have been looked over, but it was much worse!) and I couldn't get on top of any of it. I was in a shocking state of hairiness too, with my legs rivalling those of an 16 yr old boy and my eyebrows were as bad as those on Oscar the Grouch! Mono brow included. And I stopped going anywhere. It was too hard to do anything at all. And of course, as you know Lucy was sick two weeks ago, so that certainly didn't help things either. So something needed to change.
What is the worst thing you have ever done as a parent? Is it making up rules that you then hate sticking by? Accidentally hurting your child? Having to watch them get immunised? My worst moment by far was last night. Because last night, I cut her off. From me, and therefore from her beloved nighttime feeds for comfort. And in went Greg to mop up the mess. The first time she woke, man she was cranky. And Greg hardened his heart against her cries for me and patiently settled her as best he could, with love, cuddles, patting, shhhhhhing and anything else that worked. And after 45 minutes of crankiness and tears, she went back to sleep.
And I stood in the shower crying. Because as her mother, it has always been my role to stop the crying. She has always turned to me to fix her. I have always been the one to bring her comfort, to know she is safe, to know she is loved. And last night for that 45 minutes, I am sure she thought I abandoned her. I could hear her accusations in her screams for me. Where the hell are you Mum!!!?
And as predicted and expected, 2 hours later, she woke again. And off Greg went, patient and kind, into her room to disappoint her yet again. But she understood after only 10 minutes this time that Greg was all she would get tonight. And 2 hours later, she woke to him and was settled within a few minutes. And so on went our two hour sleeps until I finally fed her when dawn came at 6am, and she slept again until 8am. So predictable. I was so grateful that she understood quickly that it was daddy who would come, and that there was no point begging him for food...he couldn't offer even if he wanted to.
And so we continue tonight, I'm hoping it may be a little easier again, and that she may sleep a longer between getting up. Because soon she will hopefully realise there is no point to waking up during the night, there is nothing for her.
But until she sleeps, I won't sleep. Even though Greg is getting up to her, I am lying there...guilty as all hell and praying she sleeps quickly without fuss. Praying she knows without a doubt that her mummy loves her so much. Praying that she understands that her mummy needs to look after herself because unless I do, I will be less capable to look after her.
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
Since she arrived on the 23rd of April, Lucy and I have been joined at the hip (well, at the breast, mostly). She became my new sidekick, my new accessory if you will (a very cute one too!) being dragged around to this and that. I was absolutely smitten with her and wanted to show her off at any opportunity I could. And very quickly I realised if I fed her and changed her, she would generally sleep in the pram so it was coffees and magazines for me. Aaaaaah, fresh air! God knows after I spent the latter part of my pregnancy housebound, I had a lot of living to be done!
Greg was home for the first week and then only worked 3 days a week for the next 6 weeks, so he was around alot too. We enjoyed taking her downtown for coffees, going on little family picnics, and heading around to our friends places where she would be cuddled until her heart was content. But once Greg went back to work he was surprised by how often I was still getting out. I'd go to mothers groups, movies, shopping, visits, and for walks around the park. I didn't realise until after the fact that I had hated being so trapped inside.
So for 10 months now, it's been Lucy and I, a little team of Granger girls. As she is breastfed and didn't care for the bottle until just recently I couldn't really go anywhere without her. And she has been a real mummy's girl as well, despite Greg's willingness and want to settle her and do his half of the parenting work, she has mostly preferred me.
Until a few weeks ago! When all of a sudden my highly esteemed place in Lucy's heart as number one shifted and we saw her do a big swing towards Greg's side of the table. And I was waiting for it, but didn't realise it would come so soon. I knew there would eventually be a time when mum got boring and daddy (who is at work for 8 hours a day) is the most wonderful thing in the world. Now, don't get all reassuring on me, I know how much my daughter loves and adores me, and that when she is sad or upset I am the one she turns to. I am simply saying that Greg has started to really come into her affections the way he has hoped for so long now.
You should see her little face light up when she sees the door of his shed lift as he reverses his car in. She looks at me, and then back out the window. She can hear him open the back door and she starts crawling towards the laundry door expectantly. And when he opens that door, oh my gosh, it is like all her Christmas's have come at once. She squeals in delight! Jumps up and down on her little knees and giggles at him. And all he has done is smile. The most beautiful, special, and intimate moments of my heart, right there for all to see.
Now Lucy has been more than we could have hoped for in a daughter, and we are so thankful everyday that she is a delight to us. Lately she has been sleeping terribly (by lately, I mean for a few months now) and it has reached a head this week. With no more than 2 hours in a row most nights, she wakes and wants to feed each time. After seeking several professionals for advice, I decided she wasn't feeding from hunger, but for comfort. And I also saw that without changing something, I was quickly heading down a path of destruction myself. Believe me, after crying without a pause for 2 hours on Friday night because my heavy sense of overwhelming stress and fatigue was too much too bear, Greg and I both realised we couldn't keep going how we were.
And it wasn't just for selfish reasons of 'hmmm, I'd like some more sleep'. But out of necessity because I wasn't actually surviving anymore. The Lauren that has coped remarkably well from day one was falling apart in a big tired mess. The same one who everyone had said had taken to motherhood like a duck to water, who took all things in her stride and who coped well with anything Lucy could throw at her. Well, this one and the same girl was crying out for help for the first time, and it was extremely tough to do. Admitting that in fact you didn't have it all together.
And there were so many telltale signs of my lack of togetherness. The house was a thousand times worse than normal (I mean, Greg and I struggle to keep it together on good days so I can see how that might have been looked over, but it was much worse!) and I couldn't get on top of any of it. I was in a shocking state of hairiness too, with my legs rivalling those of an 16 yr old boy and my eyebrows were as bad as those on Oscar the Grouch! Mono brow included. And I stopped going anywhere. It was too hard to do anything at all. And of course, as you know Lucy was sick two weeks ago, so that certainly didn't help things either. So something needed to change.
What is the worst thing you have ever done as a parent? Is it making up rules that you then hate sticking by? Accidentally hurting your child? Having to watch them get immunised? My worst moment by far was last night. Because last night, I cut her off. From me, and therefore from her beloved nighttime feeds for comfort. And in went Greg to mop up the mess. The first time she woke, man she was cranky. And Greg hardened his heart against her cries for me and patiently settled her as best he could, with love, cuddles, patting, shhhhhhing and anything else that worked. And after 45 minutes of crankiness and tears, she went back to sleep.
And I stood in the shower crying. Because as her mother, it has always been my role to stop the crying. She has always turned to me to fix her. I have always been the one to bring her comfort, to know she is safe, to know she is loved. And last night for that 45 minutes, I am sure she thought I abandoned her. I could hear her accusations in her screams for me. Where the hell are you Mum!!!?
And as predicted and expected, 2 hours later, she woke again. And off Greg went, patient and kind, into her room to disappoint her yet again. But she understood after only 10 minutes this time that Greg was all she would get tonight. And 2 hours later, she woke to him and was settled within a few minutes. And so on went our two hour sleeps until I finally fed her when dawn came at 6am, and she slept again until 8am. So predictable. I was so grateful that she understood quickly that it was daddy who would come, and that there was no point begging him for food...he couldn't offer even if he wanted to.
And so we continue tonight, I'm hoping it may be a little easier again, and that she may sleep a longer between getting up. Because soon she will hopefully realise there is no point to waking up during the night, there is nothing for her.
But until she sleeps, I won't sleep. Even though Greg is getting up to her, I am lying there...guilty as all hell and praying she sleeps quickly without fuss. Praying she knows without a doubt that her mummy loves her so much. Praying that she understands that her mummy needs to look after herself because unless I do, I will be less capable to look after her.
Thankfully she doesn't hold a grudge.
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
Thursday, 1 March 2012
The Controversial Wearing of Pants!
Who wears the pants!?
Relationships are tricky things at times. You have two people who are hoping to head down the same path towards their mutual future...but at times they have differing ideas of how to get there! And even when you are the most compatible couple in the world, you still get on each others nerves from time to time.
I remember my mother gave me some excellent advice when we got engaged...'there will be days when you just love each other so much that you will want to burst. There will be days when you want to kill each other too. But mostly, there will be days that are mediocre, when you are just two people travelling alongside each other with the same goals in mind.' And in our relationship I have found that to be true.
Greg and I are best friends who share our secrets together, we tell each other things we would never share with anyone else. We see the best sides of each other on our good days and the worst of each other on our bad days. We know when the other is cranky, or just tired, when there is a real issue or simply it's just that time of the month. And at times we can't get enough of each other, madly in love and joking around within our own little bubble of happiness. But other times we misunderstand each other, the tone we use or the words we say, like we hardly know each other at all.
I was talking with friends on the weekend about the old wearing of pants business (and I promised I'd write a blog on it, you're welcome!). You know, its a term that seems to under mind the masculinity of the man in the relationship. Under the thumb? Wears his balls on her necklace etc? It was claimed that I was the wearer of pants in our relationship. But was does it mean? That they have viewed me in my role as Greg's wife to be too strong? Or have they viewed him as too weak? Because doesn't it mean that the balance is wrong if the girl is wearing the pants? Isn't it a bit insulting to hear that?
What I am surprised at is why this tiny statement should matter at all to me. Ooooh, God forbid something thinks I am wearing the pants! Who cares!? Why do I give a damn how they see our relationship from their view point? I know they love us both and are supportive of us as a couple and as a family. It was a passing joke if anything. But perhaps I do see what they see.
What they might see is that Greg doesn't do much without checking in with me first. He might prefer to spend Saturday night with the family at home rather than heading down to the pub, but I also might have blown off the girls to do the same. They might see me asking Greg to not go fishing for an afternoon so he can spend some time with us instead. So they see Greg doing things to please me, to keep his wife happy. Happy wife, happy life?
It's like wearing the pants means that he should continue to do whatever he chooses, whenever he chooses and never consider anyone else, continue on living a life like he had before he married or became a parent. Wearing the pants means he doesn't consider others when making decisions, and what he says goes. Wearing the pants means that he shouldn't be questioned, that he should be obeyed. Hmmmm.
Does wearing the pants mean still going away for weeks with the boys? Does wearing the pants mean still doing all the hobbies you enjoy? Does wearing the pants mean staying out late with the boys when you'd like to?
So I asked our friends to show me a relationship in which the man wore the pants....they couldn't think of one. So does it actually exist in reality? This alpha man who wears the pants? Or is it just a way to tease our men about being considerate, caring and communicative husbands (which is actually what they should be!).
Because perhaps once a guy falls in love and chooses to consider another person in everything they do, it actually makes him become the man he was intended to be. Maybe choosing to put someone else first in life is honourable, and will make him a much better partner for the long haul. I have seen men who try and hold all control in a relationship, it often ends in the women feeling so downtrodden that they must break free and walk away.
Although, I know I have seen cases when either the guy or girl in a relationship over time resembles nothing of their former self. No longer partaking in anything for them. No longer caring what they think for themselves, only thinking of the other. That is the extreme case that I am sure this saying started with. The man who can no longer socialise with his friends, who no longer does any hobbies, who no longer sees anyone. He is the man I think they initially thought of when saying she wears the pants.
But don't think the girl doesn't change herself to fit either. I can't tell you how many times I have chosen Greg over others, how often I have dragged my feet to events that interest him, how I made the choice to stop participating in shows for the moment because that is time I'd rather spend with him. How I have to run my ideas past him about spending money on major things, how I have to be more giving with my time so he can do his hobbies. What I buy when I do the groceries is based on what Greg likes to eat. And I love doing all these things because I love him and want to please him, as he does me.
So in my mind Greg wears the pants. And maybe in his mind I wear the pants. Because we both feel that our control has been relinquished somewhat to each other...that we no longer make choices only for ourselves because we care what the other wants as well. And we don't resent this at all. We have welcomed it as it changes and grows each year we are together.
A relationship is a partnership. Where both people should be caring of the other. I consider us to be equal partners in our relationship, considering the other before we commit to anything and ensuring that we do guard our time together as a couple, and as a family, as precious and necessary.
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
Relationships are tricky things at times. You have two people who are hoping to head down the same path towards their mutual future...but at times they have differing ideas of how to get there! And even when you are the most compatible couple in the world, you still get on each others nerves from time to time.
I remember my mother gave me some excellent advice when we got engaged...'there will be days when you just love each other so much that you will want to burst. There will be days when you want to kill each other too. But mostly, there will be days that are mediocre, when you are just two people travelling alongside each other with the same goals in mind.' And in our relationship I have found that to be true.
Greg and I are best friends who share our secrets together, we tell each other things we would never share with anyone else. We see the best sides of each other on our good days and the worst of each other on our bad days. We know when the other is cranky, or just tired, when there is a real issue or simply it's just that time of the month. And at times we can't get enough of each other, madly in love and joking around within our own little bubble of happiness. But other times we misunderstand each other, the tone we use or the words we say, like we hardly know each other at all.
I was talking with friends on the weekend about the old wearing of pants business (and I promised I'd write a blog on it, you're welcome!). You know, its a term that seems to under mind the masculinity of the man in the relationship. Under the thumb? Wears his balls on her necklace etc? It was claimed that I was the wearer of pants in our relationship. But was does it mean? That they have viewed me in my role as Greg's wife to be too strong? Or have they viewed him as too weak? Because doesn't it mean that the balance is wrong if the girl is wearing the pants? Isn't it a bit insulting to hear that?
What I am surprised at is why this tiny statement should matter at all to me. Ooooh, God forbid something thinks I am wearing the pants! Who cares!? Why do I give a damn how they see our relationship from their view point? I know they love us both and are supportive of us as a couple and as a family. It was a passing joke if anything. But perhaps I do see what they see.
What they might see is that Greg doesn't do much without checking in with me first. He might prefer to spend Saturday night with the family at home rather than heading down to the pub, but I also might have blown off the girls to do the same. They might see me asking Greg to not go fishing for an afternoon so he can spend some time with us instead. So they see Greg doing things to please me, to keep his wife happy. Happy wife, happy life?
It's like wearing the pants means that he should continue to do whatever he chooses, whenever he chooses and never consider anyone else, continue on living a life like he had before he married or became a parent. Wearing the pants means he doesn't consider others when making decisions, and what he says goes. Wearing the pants means that he shouldn't be questioned, that he should be obeyed. Hmmmm.
Does wearing the pants mean still going away for weeks with the boys? Does wearing the pants mean still doing all the hobbies you enjoy? Does wearing the pants mean staying out late with the boys when you'd like to?
So I asked our friends to show me a relationship in which the man wore the pants....they couldn't think of one. So does it actually exist in reality? This alpha man who wears the pants? Or is it just a way to tease our men about being considerate, caring and communicative husbands (which is actually what they should be!).
Because perhaps once a guy falls in love and chooses to consider another person in everything they do, it actually makes him become the man he was intended to be. Maybe choosing to put someone else first in life is honourable, and will make him a much better partner for the long haul. I have seen men who try and hold all control in a relationship, it often ends in the women feeling so downtrodden that they must break free and walk away.
Although, I know I have seen cases when either the guy or girl in a relationship over time resembles nothing of their former self. No longer partaking in anything for them. No longer caring what they think for themselves, only thinking of the other. That is the extreme case that I am sure this saying started with. The man who can no longer socialise with his friends, who no longer does any hobbies, who no longer sees anyone. He is the man I think they initially thought of when saying she wears the pants.
But don't think the girl doesn't change herself to fit either. I can't tell you how many times I have chosen Greg over others, how often I have dragged my feet to events that interest him, how I made the choice to stop participating in shows for the moment because that is time I'd rather spend with him. How I have to run my ideas past him about spending money on major things, how I have to be more giving with my time so he can do his hobbies. What I buy when I do the groceries is based on what Greg likes to eat. And I love doing all these things because I love him and want to please him, as he does me.
So in my mind Greg wears the pants. And maybe in his mind I wear the pants. Because we both feel that our control has been relinquished somewhat to each other...that we no longer make choices only for ourselves because we care what the other wants as well. And we don't resent this at all. We have welcomed it as it changes and grows each year we are together.
A relationship is a partnership. Where both people should be caring of the other. I consider us to be equal partners in our relationship, considering the other before we commit to anything and ensuring that we do guard our time together as a couple, and as a family, as precious and necessary.
And this old line about who wears the pants? I don't think it's relevant anymore.
Ciao for Now,
LG, Life's Good!
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