Archives for May 2013

“Don’t try to fix it. I just need you to listen”

I cannot tell you how lucky I am to have the husband that I have. He is kind, considerate, compassionate, hugely intelligent and he loves me. He is also the best father I know. Bar none.

Sounds perfect right? It pretty much is but for one small issue. He is very much a male and I am very much a female and at the risk of making the biggest generalisations in the world and some blatantly stereotypical statements this sometimes causes a problem.

You see he wants to solve and I want to talk. He wants to fix and I want to vent. I want someone to listen to my every feeling and he wants to remedy problems.

Typical male typical female?
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Just watch this video and see if you get the same guilty blush that I did.

It made me laugh out loud.

The one word you probably don’t want your doctor to say when examining you

This is a pretty fair rendition of what my skin on my forehead looks like at the moment. Yes. I have a fringe to cover it

This is a pretty fair rendition of what my skin on my forehead looks like at the moment. Yes. I have a fringe to cover it

There are some words you never ever want to hear a dermatologist mention. Clearly melanoma and malignant are chief amongst those but allow me to be superficial for a second and add another. Trust me, you never want to hear your dermatologist say “oh it’s only a barnacle” as she examines your skin through a super magnifying lens which she actually puts to the side when she sees your barnacle. Something that big does not need magnification.

Barnacles are found on the bottom of ships. And on whales.

To be fair the barnacle had another much more sophisticated medical term which I can’t even remember now but I’m sure if I were to google it there would be pictures of the bottom of boats. Of whales and of hideous, dehydrated, lumpy, old person skin.

The truth is although “barnacles” are a little bit genetic (my dad has beautiful warm open arms but they look a lot like very weathered boat oars) they are also a “side effect” of age.

As I adjusted to this little snippet of news from the dermatologist she went on to examine the rest of my body, I had a melanoma many years ago and I am fastidious about having my skin checked. A couple of times she stopped to examine something a little closer and invariably she would brush it off with a quick “oh it’s just an age spot”.

Gupta is a trusted sexologist who has a super specialty clinic cialis australia of Dr. This nutrient also helps to prevent broken or displayed penis capillaries from showing on the surface cialis 20mg tablets of penile skin. Besides them, avoiding discount viagra cialis overdose or increased dose is strict NO-NO. Impotence medications are very famous drugs worldwide. cheapest cialis from india Skin. What is going on with you? Why are you trying to pretend you are the covering of a really old person? I don’t feel old. I feel about 25. Sometimes 14.

Sometimes I still feel like I’m playing house, often I hear my child call me mommy and I have to remind myself that it’s not my mom he wants – I really am old enough (and then some) to be the mother of a 12 year old.

I am still surprised when I’m not asked for ID and that people don’t gasp when I tell them how long I’ve been married. Or how long I have been out of school.  I am always shocked when I meet a professional person old enough to be my child –  doctors especially. Seriously, how young are doctors these days?

My body is getting older and sometimes my eyes are too – when I see “the youth of today” dressed in pants that hang on the ground – the waist, not the hem, and I will admit to getting irritated by people speaking in gangster talk and stuff but my mind is still very, very young. And I can’t help wondering when I am going to feel older.

When I was a little girl I used to look at my mother and almost admire how old she was. When she had friends over and I was shooed out the room I used to imagine that she was having lofty, intelligent conversations about very important worldly matters.  Now that I am the same age as her I have friends over and we talk about how much weight we’ve put on, we talk about Offspring and where we should eat dinner. We talk about our kids a lot and we laugh at really stupid, immature jokes.  There is nothing lofty or supremely intelligent about our conversations and it leads me to wonder if I just hang with immature people or maybe that’s what my mother WAS talking about. She just seemed so … old and I don’t .

Are barnacles my sign of maturity or does my mind still have a long way to catch up to my skin. Is age a number or a feeling?

For anyone who’s spent time with a 2-year-old

We all know that two-year-olds can be bossy. And cheeky. And hard to communicate with it at times. But have you ever thought of how intimidating their speech is?

Filmmaker Matthew Clarke has launched a series called Convos With My 2-Year-Old which is bases on real conversations he’s had with his daughter. In the clips he reenacts the conversations but instead of using his daughter to play herself he gets an adult man to speak her part. Watch it here

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It’s a little bit creepy.. or is it just funny?

This may sound passive aggressive. It isn’t meant to

unfriendI am what can be referred to as a sensitive person. With sensitive meaning over the top, ridiculous, analyzing every move that anyone in my general vicinity makes in an effort not to upset anyone.

It’s quite tiring being that sensitive and sadly sensitivity is a great feeder for anxiety.  We all know that anxiety just loves to feed on sensitivity and so my anxiety is fat. Bordering on obese when it comes to the “upsetting other people” basket.

In fact it got a huge big feed the other day when I was browsing around on Facebook. I was on the page of a friend when I happened to glance up at mutual friends and saw something awry. Did I mention that I am painfully observant as well as ridiculously sensitive? Anyhow all my quirks and foibles checked out mutual friends and thought that it was really strange that PWSTHM (Person Who Seems To Hate Me) was not friends with this person.  Odd. Alarm bell ringing odd. So I clicked over to PWSTHM’s page and saw that she has unfriended me!

Old habits die hard and I immediately began to run through all the things that I could have done wrong in my head.  I checked my Facebook page to see if I had posted anything that may be deemed offensive.  But I hadn’t, in fact I hadn’t posted anything at all on my personal Facebook page for days (and I knew that she had only recently unfriended me because I had seen her updates only days earlier).  I wondered if there was something I had said to her in “real life” but then I remembered that I hadn’t spoken to her in real life for about 6 weeks.

It’s one thing when someone that you haven’t seen since high school snubs your friend request, but being unfriended by someone you know, like right now, is a bit of a slap to the face – especially when it seems to come from nowhere. It takes time to unfriend someone – you actually have to make an effort not to like them anymore.  I checked on Instagram and Twitter and she’s unfollowed me there too. How much effort has she put into not liking me? Yes, I could be flattered by the amount of time she has spent on my various social media sites just in the process of unliking me but that feels weird.

However, this viagra buy germany informative store is not a daily based dose, which means you should take once a day only while opting for sexual role on a particular day. Start from a reputable affiliate directory, then click your way cipla cialis italia visit that around. They may be purchasing cialis online expensive but don’t buy cheap supplements. they will not work positvly. For the medicine is similar effective of http://respitecaresa.org/rustic-gallery-helps-respite-cares-kids/ cialis 40 mg, all of the persons are not eligible for purchasing the medicine. This was very bad for sensitive me because I kept wondering WHY she hated me and more importantly for a sensitive person that really needs closure on every aspect of her life there was NOTHING I could do. I can’t very well contact someone who has publicly revoked our friendship and ask her why (plus what if she’s blocked my number?)

I spent quite a few hours being upset about it because I hate the fact that I have so clearly pissed her off and then just like that I advanced on to relief. To be honest I am glad high school is over, I am glad that I don’t have to prove myself to a judgemental clique.  I am glad that there is no one who is not on my side in my Facebook feed.

The whole unfriending thing seems to be so mean, cowardly and immature that if I am friends with “unfrienders” I’d rather not be.

Sorry  PWSTHM I am taking back my power and I am not going to be rattled that you no longer like me (although you will never know and that’s okay with me).

Have you ever unfriended someone on Facebook ? Why? Have you ever been unfriended? How did you feel?

What’s the deal with bacon?

I don’t get bacon.  Maybe it’s because I am a vegetarian, well actually obviously it’s because I am a vegetarian but even so, before I was a vegetarian I never got bacon. Maybe it’s because I am Jewish and technically I wasn’t supposed to eat bacon.. but I did and I still don’t get this fascination with bacon and bacon related products. And there are a LOT of them

I am assuming, for the sake of my sleep tonight and the fact that I need to pretend that everything is wonderful in a very Pollyanna way, that all this bacon and bacon related flavouring (if it actually contains any real meat) is bred from free range pigs that play in the mud and loll about in fields of mush.  There got that sorted – but can anyone explain this obsession with pig related products?  Seriously take a look at some of the er, delicious bacon products a simple Google search rendered and tell me WHAT IS THE FASCINATION WITH BACON?

Let me set the mood with a scented candle – bacon flavoured of course

bacon_candle

And then we’ll start with a little bacon lip balm, because if you want your lips to be soft and plump but also greasy and meaty there’s this

Image

But what if that bacon scent of your lips isn’t truly masking your breath – could it be that you didn’t brush with this?

Image

and you clearly didn’t floss with this

Image

Never mind – just pop one of these in your mouth and you’re sweet, er I mean savoury

Image

Okay that’s ridiculous – bacon is mean to be eaten not sucked – so there’s popcorn

bacon popcorn

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maple_bacon_lollipop-xl

Not sweet enough? How about some icing?

Bacon_Frosting

Or why not just squeeze the taste all over everything – with this er, bacon in a tube

bacon squeeze

If for any reason you are worried that you did not start your child on bacon early enough please keep this in mind should you ever decide to have another baby

bacon-formula

 

Because it’s better than this method. Okay maybe it’s not

lilybacon

Seriously, I could go on for ages but I am going to leave you with some bacon sunscreen

bacon sunscreen

while you sit outside and smell the roses (bacon of course)

FIC0YFNGMG2IIW4.LARGE

My huge communication problem

I have a major communication problem which is clearly a big issue for someone who works in communication.

I am fine on text, not brilliant because I prefer a keyboard with a bit more, how you say – size. I am great on email and because I am rather er, organised I am pretty good at returning emails as well as actually starting a conversation happening electronically.  I use Facebook with a relentless ardour, I don’t manage to go to long without checking Twitter and every time anything happens (like I eat or my dog moves) I snap it on Instgram.  But the phone is where my whole communication breakdown occurs.

I positively hate phoning people (except you know if you are my husband*, my son or anyone in my VERY immediate family)

HW-i-double-hate-the-damned-phoneThis loathing of the phone is not a huge issue  and for that I am very lucky – I can “talk” via any form of electronic media and get my point across, keep in contact and you know – get on with stuff. And if I analyse it really thoroughly, which of course I am doing for the purposes of research for this post, it’s not the actual call I don’t like as much as instigating the call.

I loathe phoning people, especially people with whom I have no previous connection and you’d be surprised at how often this actually happens.  Here are just some of the things I have big problems with

  • Making an appointment at the hairdresser
  • Booking a table for dinner
  • Making an appointment for a doctor I have never seen before
  • Calling a shop to find out if they have something in stock (actually I shouldn’t include this because I never do it – would rather go there and find out in person)
  • Phoning someone I don’t know very well who’s called me and left me a message to call them back (which is what I have to do right now which is the main reason for me writing this post

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The one thing that I try to do to alleviate my anxiety at making the call is to Google the person that I am trying to call. If they don’t look intimidating I feel a little easier – this never works for hairdressers.

Put it this way, if I was employed as a cold caller I would be fired during the first hour when I sat doodling nervously on a paper pad while waiting for the courage to pick up the phone.  In fact I have a very “impressive” doodling collection sitting on the table in my own study. If you look through the doodles very carefully you will see the word “hello” written a billion times – clearly I am urging myself to start somewhere.

I am not quite sure why I am so nervous of the phone I just know that if I keep typing and typing I can put off making the calls I am supposed to make this morning.

* there are caveats to this – when he is on the way home from work and I am doing a bazillion things at home and I call to find out what time he is coming home and he just wants to chat to wile away the time in the traffic then I definitely hate phoning him.

The things I can’t explain

ImageEvery day is Mother’s Day.  No special date is going to negate the fact that dishes need to be washed, meals need to be cooked and people and dogs  need to be nagged.

I feel very lucky that this Mother’s Day I was forced to get out of bed to make scones – it’s part of being a mother that I adore – feeding my family with high carbohydrate meals that my son will ignore, my dog will scoff and my husband and I will complain about because we’ve eaten too much. And I feel lucky that on Mother’s Day I get to cook for my own mother and my mother-in-law. Interestingly there is not a tad of irony in that sentence. I really do feel lucky that I have my mother and mother-in-law as part of my life. And I feel even luckier that I am a mother to the most beautiful child in the world and the most magnificent dog.

But today I am not focusing on my mother, or my mother-in-law, or even the child I brought into this world 12 years ago, today I am writing as the mother of a dog. My dog , Henry, who is sick and refusing to eat, my dog who has been sick since Wednesday and two visits to the vet, countless drugs and he’s not getting any better. I am beside myself with worry.

I cried at the vet when they told me he needed to have an anaesthetic tomorrow so they can take a look inside and see what is causing him to be so sick.  I cried with worry for him and with the great intensity of love that I feel for him. I also nearly cried because the vet is about the same age as my son….

The weekend that we bought Henry home I was going to look for a new shirt – I had a job interview scheduled for the next week and I wanted to wear something new. – possibly because I had been at home with my son for 5 years j eans and a t-shirt weren’t going to cut it for an interview.  We came home with a beautiful pink shirt which was too small for me and the smallest, cutest, most beautiful puppy in the whole world. Not even sure how that happened but I know that my husband falls in love hard and he’s very impulsive.

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Now Henry is seven and he is the most beautiful member of our family. Literally.  He is the salve our family needs when we are irritable, the stress relief we cling to when things aren’t easy, he’s the faithful companion when we need someone there, he’s the best play mate when we’re feeling energetic, he’s the most loyal and loving being I know.

I know I sound positively nutty to be talking about him like this on Mother’s Day but I am his mother and I’m finding it so hard. I am the kind of mother that explains things – that tells stories, that prepares and dissects, I am an explainer and a comforter.  And I can’t explain to him that tomorrow I am leaving him alone at the vet for his own good.  In a cage!

It’s moments like this that I actually appreciate the constant questioning from the child that speaks…

Image

A desperate bid for sympathy

Let me tell you about my week in a bid to get some sympathy out of you…

Right.

Monday my husband came down with man flu – not the serious kind of flu that keeps you away from work and in bed, but the type that makes you whinge and moan and demand sympathy.  Much like this man

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbmbMSrsZVQ&w=560&h=315]

So I endured a few days of patting his head and saying “poor poor bunny” and I was almost out of the woods when he started complaining AGAIN. He hadn’t slept at all, he told me, because he sensed that the dog was uncomfortable.  Bear with me.

The dog is spectacularly spoiled and we are both very in tune with how he is feeling. Except at night when I am sleeping and only in tune with holding on to my pillow. But apparently the dog had been unsettled and, according to my husband, staring at the front door.
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When I got up in the morning and saw that the dog had vomited in the playroom I wondered a) why my husband had managed to sleep through that and b) why when he was staring at the front door my husband hadn’t opened it and let the dog be sick outside where I would not have had to done gloves, a mask and a month’s worth of paper towel to clean up.

So the dog had to be taken to the vet (at another $300 visit) and I had to go have root canal on my tooth although these two events are not at all linked. And my appointment cost double what the vet charged…

At this point I will remind you that my son and I had walked to school on Tuesday (that’s 5km up my sleeve), got to school at 7am on Wednesday and Thursday for training and although I am immensely proud that he made the school cross country team and the soccer team it meant that he had trained so hard that on Thursday afternoon he more or less fell in a heap.

So today I am nursing a sick dog, a shattered and exhausted son and a very grumpy husband (although the husband is not lying on the couch like the rest of us).

But the good news is I get to spend all weekend cooking and preparing for Mother’s Day on Sunday.

Baby tries to say flamingo. That’s all you really need to know before you laugh at this….

Sometimes I am very immature – so immature that I laugh uproariously at videos like this

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XukgmBJQLLA&w=560&h=315]

mostly because it reminds me of videos like this
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[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1VgJfiZISc&w=560&h=315]

Which makes me laugh Every. Single. Time

The post I put off writing

*takes deep breath before posting*

I’ve never spoken about my anxiety online. It’s a choice I’ve made about what I share.

I choose what I want to put out there and by talking about my anxiety here I am not choosing to open up the extent of my mental health issues – firstly because you don’t have 100 hours to read about them and secondly because I don’t really feel comfortable going there. Sufficeth it to say, just like many hundreds of thousands of people, they are there.

The issues I have had with depression and anxiety have formed a huge part of who I am and for a long and awful time they were all that I was.  Still not going into it here… BUT I have watched so many braver people than I speak about their struggles and today in particular I feel encouraged to share with you some of what my anxiety is like.

I remember with such clarity walking into a party more than 20 years ago with the most incredible pain in my arm. My breathing was shallow and I was quite sure that it was that night I was going to die. Sure of it – there was no way someone could feel as bad as I felt, have the pain that I had, the pounding heart and the inability to swallow let alone breathe and just walk away.  I could picture the commotion I would cause when the ambulance would have to come and collect me and I wondered if I would ever be able to face any of these people again IF I lived. I wondered who of them would come to my funeral and who of them would talk about me with hushed tones and averted eyes.

Turns out I didn’t die that night, it also wasn’t the last time I felt like that.

Also turns out that my hypochondria isn’t part of some complicated Munchhausen’s syndrome. Sometimes I get symptoms that make me believe I am really unwell – fatally so and it’s just anxiety.  I’ve been through all the therapy. Really – all of it and more. Still feeling the stigma EVEN THOUGH I KNOW I SHOULDN’T.

Anxiety is more than just feeling stressed or worried. It often happens without reason, it feels like it can’t be controlled, it doesn’t simply pass – it makes life harder.
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Today I went with my very close friend (and author of The Little Book of Anxiety), Kerri Sackville to the launch of Beyond Blue’s new Anxiety Awareness campaign (she’s helping them to launch the campaign).

This clip says more than I can – it describes almost exactly how I feel when I get panicked or anxious. It also reminds me that I am not my anxiety. It’s brilliant.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PpRo1Gb1FOg&w=560&h=315]

Maybe it describes you? Maybe it describes someone you know?

According to Beyond Blue “In any one year, around 2 million Australian adults have anxiety.” Maybe you should pass this video on to them…

It’s nothing to be ashamed of, even though it’s sometimes not easy to write about.

If you need help please contact your GP or Beyond Blue