The Internal Struggle and The External Success

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ciao for now,
LG, Life's Great!

 

Secret Sex....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Great!

A pleasurable evening....alone ;)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I've missed you. xoxox

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

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Great!

A Fun Workplace....

I'm a people person.....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

Ciao for now, 

LG - Life's Great!

Building Immunity!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ciao for now, 

LG - Life's Great!

Appropriate Grief - The Degrees of Separation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taking some time back....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of younger days gone by.

Ciao for now,

LG, Life's Great!

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

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


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


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


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


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


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


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


It was the police.


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


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


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


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


Bloody hell!


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


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

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


Ciao for now,
LG, Life's Great!

A Not-So-Frequent Blogger

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

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.

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!

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! 

 

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!

   

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!

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!