Managing Your Expectations

Who Knows What Tomorrow Will Bring.......

When I was younger, I would look forward to Christmas with eager anticipation....mostly for the PRESENTS! I loved the mystery of not knowing what might be under the tree. I'm not sure to this day if it was Mum's deliberate intention to keeps us on our toes each year, but very rarely did we actually get what we 'ordered' in our Christmas letter to Santa, no matter how good we had been. But that was because often Mum had something even better up her sleeve. I remember many a Christmas Eve of sneaking a good long, lingering look at the Christmas tree during my walk from my bedroom to the toilet and back once everyone was asleep. I loved the unknown!

Sadly, it seems to be expected that as you grow up, your excitement for Christmas should dwindle out and that eventually you will say very grown up statements like: 'no, don't bother getting me anything this year, I don't need anything', or worse: 'let's just buy for the kids this year'. Because as an adult, we seem to lose that love for the unknown, and instead we like to plan our lives down to what presents we will be receiving from which family member, or not at all. 

It's the same for most facets of life. We try our best to plan ahead, to prepare both physically and emotionally for what is to come. There are very few who actually enjoy living week to week without a care in the world, the rest of us rely on stability, predictability, and routine.

In the same way that we expect, at the most basic level, to wake up each morning. That we expect, naturally, that our loves ones will all wake up each morning. That we expect, naturally, to be able to look forward to milestones we will experience in the future without hesitation.

There were tears when I put my girls to bed tonight. Not the loud tantrum tears of my adorable Lucy, who at the age of two, knows all the tricks to get mum and dad to come back to her room several times before settling off to sleep. Not even the protesting cries of my tiny precious Ava, who at three months is figuring out that when she is zipped into her sleeping bag, she is expected to sleep. No, the tears were the silent and soft, very grown up tears, and they belonged to me.

Because today I have been reminded to expect the unexpected. I have been reminded that I cannot rely on us all just waking up everyday like it is a personal right.

This morning, i woke up to the news that a mother from my August mothers group experienced the unexpected in the early hours of today. Her son, who would have been 3 months in a few days, failed to wake up. Her precious second-born child, her innocent little baby boy, her darling little man. He didn't wake up. She expected he would, naturally. When she put him to sleep last night, or perhaps after a feed early this morning, she of course expected he would wake again. And when she woke, and he didn't....well, I can't imagine.

All day, I have been amazed at the support, love and outpouring of grief felt by all who hear of this story. It is shocking, so sudden. So many have been moved to help in any way they can, and support has been offered at all levels to those who wish to share their grief with others. We are all in it together, supporting this family with everything we can. Because we are saddened for them. And it is terrifying. Terrifying because it is so close to home. Terrifying because it could have been any of us. Terrifying because we hadn't expected it.

The fact that your child may not make it through the night doesn't occur to most people, naturally. Why would it? We are planners. Expecting that the days will play out as we have planned, that in the morning we will all rise to meet another day. But what is the alternative? We can't go to sleep every night wondering if tonight the darkness would fall on our home. Thinking that each night might be the last. Constantly looking over our shoulder waiting for death to arrive.

No, we can't. But we can acknowledge that each day is a blessing we didn't necessarily earn or deserve. We can thank our lucky stars (or God, the universe, or whatever it is you believe in) that we have loved ones to cling to, and that we wake to live another day. And we can plan for the worst by remembering what is its important in our lives.

When I put my girls to sleep tonight, as I cried into their sweet heads of hair (Mummy! You're making sweaty!), all I could do was have hope that they will both live long, healthy lives. Because focusing on the alternative would do my head in. 

Spend a moment tonight thinking of all you have to be grateful for. And cherish your loved ones. 

And as for the unknown, it terrifies me these days. I want to know exactly what is in store for us all and adjust my expectations accordingly. So honey, I'd love a coffee machine for Christmas please. 

"You've Been Having Sex!"

It has never, ever occurred to me that being pregnant would publicly confirm my bedroom (lounge room/kitchen/dining/bathroom/your lounge room!) activities....

I remember the first time I put two and two together. I was in year three at school and a friend's mum was expecting a baby. I'm not sure if I was particularly curious, or it was simply the fact that my parents never shied away from the mere scientific facts of life, but I was aware of how babies were made. My mum had read me 'Where Do I Come From" so I knew all about babies being made by daddy putting his penis near the mummy's vagina, and then something about little swimming fish and a big egg (that wasn't the same kind of eggs that we ate for breakfast). I had it covered.

But it wasn't just the facts of life that I understood. The penny dropped one day when I realised that Danielle's dad had actually put his penis near her lovely mums vagina and somehow the swimmers had attacked the egg and magically she had a massive tummy. And subsequently, a baby sister! I can't tell you it was welcomed or enjoyable news to me. I was truly disgusted. And as I thought about it a little harder, I also came to the realisation that my own parents had actually undertaken the same process. THREE TIMES!

Of course, I had no idea (nor should I at that age) that mummies and daddies may have actually enjoyed the process of making babies - that it was arguable the most enjoyable thing you could physically do. Nope, I was simply grossed out.

As I grew up and came to accept the reality of life and discovered all new things baby making process, I also accepted that it was a normal thing to partake it when in a relationship. That you would want to do 'it'.

I've blogged before about the assumed mystery of sex and how some people think that their sex is a secret. I've always worked on the assumption that people are generally active in their private spaces unless I'm told otherwise. No big deal, right? I suppose in the same right, I've always assumed that people would consider the same for me. I've been married for 8 years this October, and have been with Greg for 10. Shock horror and surprise surprise.....we have sex!

So I'm just not sure why it took me by surprise the other day when a previous colleague came past my desk, realised I am pregnant and announced very loudly to my open-planned office: "Hahaha, I know what you've been up to, you naughty thing!" Nudge nudge, wink wink. Oh. My. God.

It takes a bit to embarrass me - doesn't happen often at all. But when it does, it will be a thorough job, with every part of me from my hair to my nipples turning a bright beetroot red! It is similar to the exercise glow I love so dearly (not), but a deeper and much more severe colour. It alarms others. It embarrasses me further, at which stage I turn from beetroot red to a deep purple you'd think almost impossible for human skin to be.

And this guy at work announcing to the office that I was sexually active with my husband got me. It got me good. All I could do was laugh along with him, and try my best not to pass out from the blood rushing to my face like a freight train.

I consider Greg and I to have a healthy relationship. We argue, we get along, we communicate (most of the time), we have fun, we get the shits with each others, we love each other, and we have sex. I've never hidden any of that from anyone......and I don't actually find it necessary to do so. I'm not at all ashamed or embarrassed that my parents (and my Nana - Hi Nana!) read this blog.  My parents are smart people who are intelligent enough to know that their children have sex, and probably even want us to have a healthy relationship which includes all of the above as well. And I will want the same one day from my children too. I don't want my children to ever feel shame for enjoying all a relationship has to offer, including the physical aspect. It's what was intended for us all to discover when the time is right, after all!

But while I'm not ashamed of our sex life, I also don't feel the need to announce it to 10 of my work colleagues. Let them make their own assumptions, if their mind takes them on that path. I can't say it's the first thing I think of when I see a pregnant woman. Maybe I will now. Maybe you all will now!

After my work buddy screamed confirmation of my sex life to the world and my face lit up like a navigation beacon, I realised that it isn't that simply anymore. I realised that the reason it has never occurred to me that being pregnant might automatically equal 'sexy-time' is that sometimes pregnancy can be a result of awful things, like manipulation, violence, rape. And sometimes it can be a scientific miracle found in IVF. Sometimes, more commonly than we might even know, it may be a result of years of tears, trying and trying, and finally succeeding. And it may have become all about the business of trying, not the fun and spur of the moment love making session that we would all have preferred it to be.

For the simplest of all things in life, supposedly the most natural thing to occur ever, I am often left pondering the old story of what's fair and what's not. Because for something that should be a simply task, an accidental 'whoops' in many cases, may seem impossible for others. I'm reminded that the human body isn't as perfect as we first thought. It doesn't behave how it should every time.

Apparently, having children (as many as you want and at the time that you want) isn't a given in life. Its a journey that alludes some, and seems freely given to those who don't want/deserve it. I'm left pondering the lack of 'fair' in the world again, the injustice that is unexplainable.

I write this as my second blessing shoves his/her foot under my right ribs and gives me a regular reminder of the fact that he/she will be in our arms in less than 3 months. And as always, I am reminded daily to be grateful.

But I also write to you as my heart breaks for several people close to me who have been to hell and back in their efforts to have children (first child or additions to their family). I'm not naive, I know I can't understand their road. That I sit in the very position they would kill to be in. I get that.

But I hope they can see that my eyes are open to their pain, and that although I am the lucky one, I hate the injustice just as much as they do. I want for them the same as what they want. It is, of course, easier to be the one in my position. But I am not blind to you. I see and hear you, and I feel some of your pain. I cry my own tears for each and every time it doesn't work out. I don't cry in sympathy, I cry in true grief. I rage against the unfairness of life. It doesn't escape me, even in my position.

And when all seems lost, all I can can offer is hope. Because at the end of the day, I can't offer you relief or understanding of how it feels to be you. I can't offer you the answers you need or the magic to happen. All I can offer is a hope that one day it will work. That one day, despite the odds and the past, it will work.

And if you can't believe anymore and hope itself alludes you, I will secretly hope for you. Because, that is all I can do.

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Good!

Um, That's a Little Personal, Isn't It?!

I’ve never really understood privacy……..

Hands up those friends out there who know WAY too much about me? Those who I have told all manner of things, from descriptive details of how Lucy’s birth went down to what colour my poo was yesterday. Those who I have made inspect my boobs (and I’m not talking about the doctor this time!) for lumps or rashes, or those who have heard all about my most personal moments in life. What’s that?! All of you put your hands up!?

I have always been an open book. It’s my thing. 98% of the time, you will know exactly what I am thinking. I appear to be missing a filter of sorts that allows me to sort my thoughts into two sections…..private and public. Like before I have even had a chance to consider if I should say, I have already told you all about my entire day, how I have felt for most of it, and what funny/embarrassing thing that happened to me during that time. It just happens before I even realise!

Take today for an example. I went to work looking a little under the weather. Perhaps that doesn’t quite capture it…..I was told by a friend that I maybe shouldn’t have come to work looking like I did today. A colleague called me ‘the Elephant Man’. Same colleague also referred to me as Beavis (from Beavis and Butthead), and my sister suggested I looked a little ‘special’. And you know when people laugh that little bit too quickly, and way too loudly, because it is sooooo true? Well, my work buddies had a belly laugh when I asked them if I looked like Quasi Modo! Greg said I didn’t even look like myself. Lucy still loved me.

So what happened to me, you say? Well, after lunch yesterday (and no, I didn’t eat anything I am allergic to) I felt my eye was a little itchy. So I scratched it. And it grew and grew and grew. To the point when I may or may not have looked like a victim of assault, people were alarmed! My eye was so swollen and puffy, I looked completely differently. This morning that eye had settled down…..but the other eye was now puffy.

Now, I don’t want you to think, oh a puffy eye, no big deal. It was so severe that people were doing double takes when they saw me. ‘Oh, I thought you were Lauren…oh wait – it is you! Holy shit, what happened to your face!?’ This actually happened. Today. Several times! I was even worried about going swimming this morning because I was concerned the goggles may become suctioned onto my face permanently – thankfully they didn’t. Apparently I may be allergic to Aspro Clear!

I’m way sexy today.

Yet some people would be mortified to declare this to the world. I’m not sure why though, because it can’t be helped. Actually, I can be helped, take Panadol instead! But you get my point. And this is what I mean regarding my tell-all approach in life. I just reveal, and reveal and reveal all the time. Because, somewhere, someone will be amused to think of how horrendous I looked today! Bastards.

Why not share it all? I don’t really understand why people are so private sometimes. In fact, what would this blog be if not a true pouring out of my emotions, thoughts and experiences? There wouldn’t be a blog at all.

Over the past 11 months that I have enjoyed writing to you, I have been ever so conscious about what I am writing, who might read it, and what could happen as a result of my declarations to the world. Before I press that publish button, I sit here for a good minute (when, clearly I should be editing the blog for spelling and grammatical errors!) and consider the consequences of releasing the blog. For example, last week I wrote about people close to me who may be unsupportive of my weight loss journey. They read my blog regularly, so it was important for me to write it in a way that would help them understand my point of view, my perspective. And of course, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt anyone by airing dirty laundry for the sake of it.

But even after I weigh up who might read the blog (should my boss really know about the doctor I am constantly flashing my boobs to!?), it always comes down to who I am as a person. And that person is an unfiltered, unadulterated, and often limitless but honest person who just wants her heart heard. What you see is what you get with me.

That is my flaw. My strength!

And people usually have one of two responses to my blog. They either cringe when they read it, because they can’t believe I have put that online for everyone to read, or they smile and love it, because they feel refreshed by my honesty. And they RELATE to my stories.

Last week, as I poured my raging heart out over the injustice I felt regarding feeling unsupported, I connected with more than just a few people. I had many people contact me to let me know they had my back and to encourage me in my journey of self-discovery and health. And I also had people who felt I spoke for them. People felt that I had written from their heart, that I had vocalised their thoughts, feelings and experiences better than they could have. It was AMAZING how many people felt this way! Like I had given them a voice - talk about being humbled!

But it made me reflect on the very purpose of this blog. Originally it was to document my journey in finding a hobby. Then it became the hobby itself. But only now do I realise it is my method of connecting with the world. Because every single time I put my own heart on the line, and become vulnerable before you all, out of the woodwork come people who are empowered to finally speak of the same situation in their own life. And not only am I sharing my ‘private’ things with you, but I have people share back their situations in return.

This blog isn’t all just me giving you an entertaining read. It’s me giving you the opportunity to share too.

Make yourself vulnerable to your people, and be surprised by how they respond in return. 

Sorry no pic today, I'm blogging from my phone due to technical issues... 

Ciao for now, 

LG - Life's Great! 

.

To add insult to injury (or allergy), Lucy’s pointer finger and my eyeball had an accidental collision last night as we were playing around, and as a result my puffy swollen eye is also MEGA red.

I’m way sexy today.

Yet some people would be mortified to declare this to the world. I’m not sure why though, because it can’t be helped. Actually, I can be helped, take Panadol instead! But you get my point. And this is what I mean regarding my tell-all approach in life. I just reveal, and reveal and reveal all the time. Because, somewhere, someone will be amused to think of how horrendous I looked today! Bastards.

Why not share it all? I don’t really understand why people are so private sometimes. In fact, what would this blog be if not a true pouring out of my emotions, thoughts and experiences? There wouldn’t be a blog at all.

Over the past 11 months that I have enjoyed writing to you, I have been ever so conscious about what I am writing, who might read it, and what could happen as a result of my declarations to the world. Before I press that publish button, I sit here for a good minute (when, clearly I should be editing the blog for spelling and grammatical errors!) and consider the consequences of releasing the blog. For example, last week I wrote about people close to me who may be unsupportive of my weight loss journey. They read my blog regularly, so it was important for me to write it in a way that would help them understand my point of view, my perspective. And of course, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt anyone by airing dirty laundry for the sake of it.

But even after I weigh up who might read the blog (should my boss really know about the doctor I am constantly flashing my boobs to!?), it always comes down to who I am as a person. And that person is an unfiltered, unadulterated, and often limitless but honest person who just wants her heart heard. What you see is what you get with me.

That is my flaw. My strength!

And people usually have one of two responses to my blog. They either cringe when they read it, because they can’t believe I have put that online for everyone to read, or they smile and love it, because they feel refreshed by my honesty. And they RELATE to my stories.

Last week, as I poured my raging heart out over the injustice I felt regarding feeling unsupported, I connected with more than just a few people. I had many people contact me to let me know they had my back and to encourage me in my journey of self-discovery and health. And I also had people who felt I spoke for them. People felt that I had written from their heart, that I had vocalised their thoughts, feelings and experiences better than they could have. It was AMAZING how many people felt this way! Like I had given them a voice - talk about being humbled!

But it made me reflect on the very purpose of this blog. Originally it was to document my journey in finding a hobby. Then it became the hobby itself. But only now do I realise it is my method of connecting with the world. Because every single time I put my own heart on the line, and become vulnerable before you all, out of the woodwork come people who are empowered to finally speak of the same situation in their own life. And not only am I sharing my ‘private’ things with you, but I have people share back their situations in return.

You're Either With Me or You're Against Me!

Here we go........AGAIN!

Before we got married, I tried a diet program called the Cohen's Lifestyle program. I lost 12 kgs in 8 weeks. It was hugely successful....up until the point where I began to resent eating the same thing every day and I stopped. And proceeded over the next year to put those 12kgs back on again. So I signed up for Weight Watchers, a more common sense approach. But I didn't like going to the meetings.....which seemed to be full of people my mums age. A few years later and at my heaviest, I joined the Tony Ferguson craze and lost another 12 or so kilograms. And I have managed over the last few years to maintain that somewhat. During all of this time, I have signed up at several different gyms, but that hasn't really stuck either. And earlier this year, I lost 10kgs during my frist round of the Michelle Bridges 12 Week Body Transformation. And during the subsequent round in which I did nothing, sat on my arse and ate shit, I put that all back on.

So I do understand completely the feeling of frustration, disappointment or sadness you may point in my direction when you read this blog today. Because whatever you may be feeling for me, I feel it a thousand times more than you! The fact that my victorious loss earlier in the year has just piled back on is somewhat devastating and also somewhat ridiculous. How have I let this happen? AGAIN!? Well, I have eaten shit, I have not exercised and I have used every excuse in the book. And yes, it has been a terrible year by all accounts. A family member was diagnosed with cancer two days after we laid a dear friend to rest after her battle with terminal cancer. Amongst it all, we have been plagued endlessly with sickness and bugs that just won't leave us alone. Its been a difficult year. And as I said..........every excuse in the book.

But you know what? Here I am owning this shit. And as much as I can point out the circumstances which made me feel as though there was no point, or which made me feel as though I had no time or energy to prioritise myself, they can't be blamed for my inaction. Only I can take the blame for that. So I do. And I am frustrated, sad and disappointed in myself. Because now I have to lose that all over AGAIN! Plus more!

I can tell you why the last round was a non event. Because I did not have the strength, nor desire to wake up earlier than the rest of my household 6 mornings a week and workout for an hour. I did not care to spend long periods of time in the grocery store buying from a well thoughtout list, or to prepare meals on Sundays ready for the week. I did not want to find time to watch Michelle's videos on her website about mindset lessons, nor did I bother to jump onto the forums to see if anyone else was going through the same struggle. Because i just didn't want to. I was sick of endlessly striving. Because it's all on ME! I am the one who does all this. Who has to do all this.

Hands up out there who has looked at the scales and realised they need to lose 50kg to be within their healthy weight range? For those of you who feel it is near impossible to lose that 5 or 10kg you are carrying....IMAGINE HOW I FEEL! Honestly, sometimes that is just too much to consider. It seems impossible. Unrealistic. Disheartening.

So I'm sorry if you are sick of hearing about this up and down ride of weightloss I seem to be continually on. I know there are people around me who feel that they are constantly supporting, constantly trying and constantly being disappointed by my lack of effort to care about my self for more than a couple of weeks in a row. Well, listen up because I have something very special to say to you. I'M STILL HERE. I'M STILL TRYING. I HAVEN'T GIVEN UP!

Because I want a healthier life for myself. I want to feel comfortable in my body, in my clothes, in my social situations. I want to feel fitter, be proud of myself when I look in the mirror and succeed in achieving milestones I didn't realise I could.

So I don't apologise for yet again picking myself, dusting myself off and refocusing on what needs to happen. Not once will I apologise for that. I won't apologise for the money I spend on the programs I do either. Because to me, it's worth it. To me, it's what I need to focus on to help me along. It's the encouragement and the support that sometimes doesn't come from others, and its the understanding that the fit and healthy people around me don't have.

So you know what? I write to you slightly defiantly today. A little on the defensive. Because I have a little rage inside. And despite what you may think, no I am not even mad at myself. I'm hell proud of myself. I'm proud for reassessing, yet again, and doing what needs to be done. I am pleased that I am yet again in a position when I feel I can again spend the time I need to for this to happen. And I am thrilled to have discovered that I now thirst after a hardcore proper workout, rather than a slack, half-hearted workout. If I set aside the time to workout, I want it to be a bloody good one! And this is something I have only just discovered, and am mega pleased with. Go me.

But I'm mad at those who don't get it. I'm mad at the people who think that it is as easy as 'if you say you're going to do it, just do it'. I am mad at those who have suggested it may be a waste of money. Or who may think (and actually say to me!) 'why bother!?'. And I am bloody furious at those who are frustrated with me FOR BEING EXCITING ABOUT THIS! For the people who are annoyed that I am yet again READY to make the effort I need to to lose weight! Who are shitty because they are going to have to hear all about my goals, my promises (that they think I will renig on - and I might!), my hopes and aspirations for the future and the program. Well, here is something very special just for you...... how about you go and shove your attitude up your arse!

You are either with me or you're directly against me. There is no middle ground. You can't claim to be supportive, and yet feel hard done by because I am beginning again. Like it puts you out!

And life is harder for me than it is for you, believe me. The effort for this journey does not lie in your hands. It lies in mine. I am the one who needs to reshape my body. I am the one who needs to focus on my health. I am the one waking up early. I am the one working my arse off to burn off 600 calories per session. I am the one tired and sore at the end of each day. I am the one who had to convince my head to just get out of bed and GO. I am the one who has to say no no no no no to foods I love. I am the one who has to say yes yes yes yes yes to fueling my body for performance rather than pleasure. It's on my head, not yours. It's my journey. Not yours.

So next time you think you are disappointed, frustrated, sad or annoyed because you have to be a bystander in MY difficult, hard and fluctuating rollarcoaster of a journey, consider this: I am still here. I am still trying. I HAVE NOT GIVEN UP. And I won't give up. I might go through tough patches. But understand that I will always be there, picking myself back up, rallying my emotions, courage and strength to stand and fight another day.

And do you know what? I don't need your support. I don't need your approval. I don't need your enthusiasm or your energy. But it's a hell of a lot easier with it.

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Great!

Hi Doctor, I Think I Have a Chest Infection......Perhaps You Need to See My Boobs!?

To think of the holiday we could have had with all the money we have spend funding our doctor's holiday this year.......

Growing up, I wasn't a particularly sickly child.....but I wasn't a particularly healthy child either. Yes, I was active, and loved to play outside with rollarblades, the netball hoop in our driveway, and climbing my favourite tree up onto the garage roof when I was ten, much to my mothers horror (GET DOWN NOW!). I didn't know what the big deal was....until eventually I broke my arm falling from that very tree. Apologies Mum, I now understand your thoughts for my safety. We ate well as children, so well in fact that I was always trying to swap my wholegrain/multigrain sandwich and Amway apple juice with my friends for something far more interesting. And most of the time, they wanted to swap too. Not sure who that reflects on worse.....me, because I wanted something a little tastier than what mum had packed in my lunch box, or them, because they were craving something a little more substantial than what their mother had packed for them (canteen money).

But I did suffer pretty bad asthma as a child and several times ended up with pnuemonia. I remember one time in particular, when I must have been around 9 or 10. I was so sick I could hardly move, and my bestie Belinda brought around one of her favourite toys before school that I could look after until I was feeling much better. I think it was her Maggie Simpson doll. As I stood at the front door trying to thank her between rasping breaths, all I could think about was that I was either going to pass out, or vomit on her. But I managed thanked her, she left for school, and I promptly vomited as soon as I was out of line of sight.

Our family doctor was a cranky, rude, and brash kind of guy, who often rubs people up the wrong way (not physically!). But he was a good doctor. So good in fact that he is near IMPOSSIBLE to get into on the day you actually need to see a doctor, so I was forced to branch out as an adult to find a new family doctor. After trial and error, I have found one I am reasonably happy with at the moment. And unforunately he isn't old, rude and cranky, but young, lovely and understanding. What's that? You think these things are good characteristics in a doctor?! Well, I suppose so, but it makes for awkward situations when I am forever trying to force my boobs upon him.

Now I have your attention. No, I am not trying to sexually assault my poor lovely new doctor, or accost him with these big boys through means of entrapment. I'm simply trying to get to the bottom of the issue at hand on the day, and it always seems that my boobs might be the route of all problems.

You remember back in March that we went on a houseboat trip and I achieved many awesome things that week, like stand up paddle boarding, wakeboarding and working out with the lads? Well at the end of that holiday of epic awesomeness, literally as we drove into our home town and dropped Stafford off at his place, I said hmmmmm, my throat is sore. Within about 90 mins of that statement, I was shivering to all buggery in the shower, turning it up hotter and hotter and just not being able to warm up. I climbed into bed, in my hoody, trackies and socks and spent the night shivering away under a horrible fever that wouldn't shake.

Now, that just sounds like a normal sickness yes? Fever, sore throat? Well, yes normally, but of course then there were my boobs! You see, at the beginning of that week, I had finally dropped Lucy's last breastfeed and my boobs were EXPLODING in pain! I couldn't lie down. It hurt to walk. I couldn't hold Lucy without them killing me. I was a mess of sore throat AND horrendously sore boobs! And for those of you that know boobs, you may also know a little infection called mastitis. Which can come along when you are weening off feeding. So it wasn't completely unreasonable of me to fear that I had developed a horrid case of mastitis, right!?

So in I go to our young, lovely and understanding doctor who asks me what is going on. I say (in my deepest man voice imaginable) "I think I have mastitis! I have just weened Lucy (who of course he knows very well) 10 days ago and my boobs might actually explode soon! They are killing me! I have a sore throat too." So the doctor says "have you any red spots on your breasts, or any lumps?" No. "alright, I may have to check your breasts, but how about I look at your throat first?" Sure. So he looks into my mouth and says very quickly "what you have is a nasty case of tonsilitis". And then we talked about normal breast engorgement after weening. How embarrassing! Greg always teases me about this and we laugh at the fact that I went to the doctor with tonsilitis and almost gave him an eye full for fun!

Which of course would be fine if it was just that time. But recently I have noticed (much to my alarm) that one side is growing again and I now belong in the majority of the population who have one side bigger than the other. Feet, hands, arms, balls, boobs! Apparently everyone has something. And apparently it's my turn to experience this joy! Except it isn't a joy. Not at all. Because if you know me or have seen me in person, you could attest to the fact that I already have my fair share (and probably the fair share of 3 or 4 other girls too!) in breast tissue, and do not require the growth of either of my boobs! In fact, I detest such an event! And this one-sidedness has me concerned, as I fear I will begin to walk with a slight turn towards one direction and start veering off into oncoming traffic or something!

So back to the doctor I went. Back to my young, nice, happy doctor to show him my boobs for real. Because noticing sudden changes in your boobs is something to take serious note of, and certainly something to get checked out. Even if it is mortifying. And as he stood in front of me and assessed my boobs, poking here and prodding there, staring here and lifting there, all I could wish for was my cranky old rude doctor who would say something stupid which would make me resent him and I could just focus on that instead of the current situation I was in. After a thorough examination, my lovely, young, understanding doctor announces to me (and Lucy who is standing next to me, staring in fascination at this strange happening) that there is no medical issue with my boob becoming larger than the other one, that he is satisfied that I do not need to be concerned, and that perhaps if it is a real issue for me cosmetically, there were paths that I could take to rectify that. Thank you, you can put your top back on.

So each visit I see the doctor now, all I can think is 'are you thinking about poking and prodding my boobs?'. Probably not. But maybe!

I went to visit him yesterday again. Because I seem to have contracted a cold, which turned into a chest infection, which has the added joy (again, joy is not the right word!) of SEVERE asthma attached to it which basically means I can hardly breathe. But this time, I felt so shitty I forgot all about showing my boobs to him, and just got down to the task at hand. Hit me with your best drugs so I can stop feeling like I am going to cough a lung up and have a prolapse!

Blah!

Anyway, the message of the story today is that if you need to see your doctor, always offer him/her the opportunity to check over your boobs just in case. No wait. That isn't really the message. The message is, if you notice a change, probably it will be nothing, but better to be safer than sorry. Get it checked by a professional. And then forget about it as soon as you can. Because it is still embarrassing. But embarrassment is better than cancer that could have been cured if caught earlier.

 That goes for you boys too you know! Get your balls and prostate checked! Now GO!

P.S This blog does not give you the right to stare at my boobs next time we see each other, or try and pick which one is bigsy! I have written this so you will take care with your body and track all changes, and react appropriately. And because it's funny. ;)

Ciao for now,

LG - Life's Great!

The juicy goss that I really want to share!

An author can only be as open as her friends and family will reasonably allow......

Have you ever spread someone elses secret ever after they have asked you not to? Did you promise them and pinky swear that you wouldn't, but you still did simply because it was too juicy/funny/rude/sad not to share?!  What would be the consequence of telling their stories? Honestly, what is the worst that could happen? Your reputation as a secret keeper destroyed? An end of a friendship? Well, yes those things are quite terrible, expecially the losing a friend over the matter. But what if the secret was that good, that you just couldn't keep it to yourself??

Well, I have so many juicy stories to tell you! So many things I desperately want to blog about. These stories are of violence, passion, of highly emotional situations, of people at their weakest moments, of love and hearts broken by those we can't talk about anymore, and of anger and hurt at moments in the past that have caused significant impact on the present day. Of grief indescribable (well, I could certainly try my best as a blogger who prides herself on emotive writing) and of frustrations too close to home. Of loneliness you shouldn't feel and of intollerances that you haven't shared. Of embarrassing moments you shouldn't share!

Hehehe, I have an image in my head of some of my friends and family thinking of all the embarrassing stories that have happened in the last little while and are reading this part thinking no no no no no no NO NO NOOOOOOOOO! Because you think I am about to tell you HILARIOUSLY MORTIFYING story in my blog tonight. Well, you're right, but I have changed names so they won't know who it is! "HELLO MAMA!"
Hehehe, just kidding! ;)

These stories aren't stories that others have told me. They happened to me. I am the first party in each and every one of these little indulgences. But they also involve other people. Every story I want to share with you that sits within the 'sealed section' of my blogging heart is extremely personal to me, and to at least one other person involved. Do you see my dillema?

I have been very careful throughout this blog to keep it relatively generic, to make generalised sweeping statements about issues and topics, rather than talk about individual people, unless it is a positive message. I have taken great care to save as drafts never to be published those blogs that I feel may effect others detrimentally. I haven't slagged off anyone in my blogs.....I have really wanted to at times. I am aware that my take on a situation is only my perspective, and it may appear different to the other person/s. So I have been careful not to indulge in this type of writing.

So I am thinking perhaps I should write a book instead, as an annonymous author so I could regall you all about the time when blah blah blah happened and then I was thrown against a wall and then so and so took to me to whathernames house and etc etc etc. Because these are the stories that I truly believe need to be out there. Stories of real things that happen to real people. People like ME!

Of passionate (and maybe even hilarious!) love scenes (cue Greg's moan of fear and mortification: "Lauren!"), and marital issues (cue Greg's embarrassment at people thinking that we might have issues to deal with). Or family breakups and the fall out that lasts longer than the years you'd assume it should. Of heartbreaks and self destruction as a result of a moment in time. Of caring too much about what one person thought that it formed/influenced my way of thinking even to this day. Of getting along with your inlaws, and the moments that you take the wrong way. Or of being present when the tiniest of loved one passes away and how that moment in time changed forever what you thought you believed.......and now perhaps don't. And of a family who cannot take anymore pain and stress, yet deal with it everyday with amazing strength and grace.

It doesn't stop there. For as open and honest as I have always been on this blog, I have so much more I want to share with you. And I simple don't know how to go about writing that stuff without offending/upsetting/losing friends and family.

Aaaaaaaaah! (pulling out hair!)

One day I will figure out how to truly write from the deepest shackles of my heart, because I believe those are the stories that need reading. They are the stories you yourself will have hidden away too, and freedom will be achieved by breaking the silence......even if it is in the form of an anonymous book!

I'm sure it is the case already that friends and family read through my blogs and attribute the message to themselves. In fact, on several different occasions I have had people ask me if a blog about their situation? And in almost every case, it wasn't. But it reached them on some level and made complete sense and obviously it could have been them. Which brought comfort to me, because in return for bearing my soul on this page, I get an insight into other's lives and an understanding that I am not alone either, in the way that I feel, think or view situations.

On a side note - today I celebrate publishing FIFTY BLOGS since I began this blog in January! And as a gift (threat) to my loyal readers and to my emotional health, I have decided to commit to publishing a weekly blog each Friday morning. So I hope you will hang in there and enjoy what is to come from the mind of Lauren and the ever present search for health, fitness, happiness and contentment in life. I thank you for following the journey so far. And don't think I haven't taken note of your higher interest in the blogs that appear sexier than the others (like 'a pleasurable night in...alone' and 'secret sex) and your interest in matters close to my heart (like 'Dear Stacey...Love from Lauren' and 'A Truly Astonishing Week' Parts1,2 &3!) and will endeavour to spice up my writing a little more for you when the time is right. ;)

 Your blogger's heart walks around outside her body these days, in the form of toddler steps. 

Ciao for now,

LG - Life's GREAT!

My Sliding Doors Moment.......

How do you see your future...?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here I am maxed out at my heaviest EVER!

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

Ciao for now, 

LG - Life's Good!

A Stale Old Marriage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I should be a sex therapist.

Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Good!