Then it was September 30th...

So that month didn't exist, did it?

Rather like our Carribean month in June, we have had very little time this month to do normal life and therefore very little time to tackle this month's challenge of food with a name. It has been a great month with an extremely whirlwind eight day trip round the country visiting almost every first and second degree relative we have plus a few third degree, plus a few distant, never met before but got on like a house on fire relatives! We have also just returned from our church weekend away in Scarborough. It wasn't what many people were expecting it to be like but I hope and pray that the impact made will last far beyond the doors of Green Gables.

So, back to the point. Food with a title. It was fun, really fun and quite silly in places. There wasn't much of it but we went out on a high today with Boats. Not only food with a name but also would have scored points under presentation month, African month (ahem, it had cous cous in it...) and base ingredient month (which we haven't done yet but have discussed a lot). Boats is made up of sailing and rowing boats, the former being half a jacket potato with a rolled up piece of bacon skewered to the top as a sail, the latter being stuffed peppers with carrot baton oars. Fun times! And no complaint about any element fom the kids cos I called it Boats. Win. Win. Win.

Next month is five ingredient month. We have a couple of hours left to thrash out the rules precisely but basically any main meal will only contain five ingredients (but, for example, a stock cube would be an ingredient not all its component parts. That is for base ingredient month...). I am also aiming for olive oil, salt, pepper and possibly balsamic vinegar to not count as ingredients... I am aiming to do it as a "full challenge" i.e. every single evening meal. Wish me luck! (And possibly a back subscription to Good Food magazine...)

There's a Hole in my Bucket

I am aware I may not always sound it, and many times it takes me by surprise when I realise it, but I am intrinsically an optimist. However, I have noticed recently that when I get to feeling particularly low or volatile, I have a tendency to look only at things that are missing, the holes in my bucket, rather than my more usual approach of looking at all the many wonderful ways I could plug the holes.

One of the holes I have dwelt on a lot in the past is not having a sister. I had one once upon a time, before I was born, but she died when only six weeks old. No one ever really knew her, and certainly not me, but at times I become extremely despondent over her loss and over what life would be like, if only I had this unknown sister.

Another hole is of course the anxiety/IBS/endo combo. In this case, there are of course some fairly real concerns, but the bit that counts as my "hole" is that nagging feeling of what life would be like if I never got nervous about leaving the house. Imagine all the things I could do if I didn't always have to know where my next "convenience" was...

Recently, however, I have had a big old smack round the head about one of my most common holes. It is, quite frankly, a ridiculous hole and I am a little ashamed to admit it, especially to some of you that I know are reading this. This hole is the lack of a life long best friend, the one I met on the first day of school, we were each others bridesmaids, we talk on the phone at least once a week even though we now live in different parts of the country etc etc etc.

I am sorry for all the times I have felt jealous and insecure about your other friends and wondered which one is your best friend. I am sorry that I have wasted time imagining a relationship so utterly secure as to be impossible.

I don't fall into this hole very often anymore but it is the kind of one that sneaks up when I am getting a grip on the anxiety but it still needs somewhere to leak out. I was aware it was trying to gain some traction recently. And then came the smack round the head.

In the space of about two hours the other week, I had texts from about five different people, all of whom I value highly, all of whom are very busy. They all took the time to text and say their parts of the following:

How are you?

I miss you.

You did that really well.

I love you.

What can I pray about for you?

How did X that you were worried about go?

What a wake up call, and what an unbelievably blessed and lucky person I am because they aren't the only five people who would say those things to me. Thank you. I love you too. And I promise I am going to plug that hole in my bucket as soon as it appears next time. I am going to plug it with your names.

Being Busy

As I mentioned a post or two back, it turned out that doing nothing I found stressful was really bad for the anxiety and we threw around a few ideas of why this might be and what could be done about it. One of the ideas was that I was simply a little bored of mind.

Since writing that, I haven't really had time to stop and think about how to challenge my mind, or indeed anything else. It has seemed to be the case that I have been less anxious also.

The big thing that has occurred has been just the start of term, the start of pre-school, the start of all our regular fixtures like the mum's cell group that I "run" (I use inverted commas because the three other members of the group really do their fair share of running it too, I just get to claim that it is me...), swimming lessons for G&E and so on. These are the kinds of things that make me busy but don't necessarily challenge my brain (other than cell group (oh by the way, in case you are not jargon-tastic, a cell group is not a terrorist organisation in this case, it is a bunch of Christians meeting together to study the bible, pray and challenge each other. In our case, we also laugh A Lot and eat plenty of cake.)).

I have, on the side, however, picked up a couple of these more brain challenging things, occasionally by accident. I have led, or helped to lead, a couple of services at church. The first was a last minute offer to lead an evening prayer service. It was a little stressful at the time simply because leading a service that you have been to once before and is of a fundamentally quiet and reflective style is very hard to judge whether people are engaged or bored to tears. Those closed eyes and relaxed faces could mean one of two things...fervent prayer or blissful sleep! However, I did enjoy it thoroughly and had a lot of positive feedback afterwards. The second service was the dreaded, horrifying All Age service. I think we put together a good service. I think it went well. I think those who were there enjoyed it and hopefully learnt something from it. I hated it. At the time it was ok but I went into bit of a state of shock afterwards and crawled off into a cave to recover. It was tough going. I am still trying to work out which kind of tough going - the kind where you should keep going and stick at it or the kind where you should know your limits and make a graceful exit. I fear it is the former!

The final challenge to my brain has come in the form of E's impending second birthday. I decided a while ago that I would write her a story for her birthday, the hope being that I shall continue to write stories for both children for each birthday for as long as they want. But let's not get ahead of ourselves!

The thing about a story for a second birthday is that it has to be illustrated, not much way round that with a two year old! I can write stories but I can't draw for toffee. And yet, here I sit, while writing this, spraying pages of drawings with fixative so that they don't smudge the opposite page and considering the drawings still remaining and attaching the words and...! And feeling pretty darn chuffed. I still can't draw but I have drawn enough to get the point across. Why the heck I decided to include a horse in the story I will never know (thank goodness there are words there too so people will know it is a horse...). It has filled my evenings this week, along with a bit of party preparation and it has been a very good challenge. Of course, as soon as I finish it, I need to start on G's story...

Breakfast Month

Breakfast month was good. The kids were a little unconvinced and largely stuck to their cereals of choice but A is very pleased with his new found love of porridge (in August. No doubt he will be sick of it before winter arrives...). We had less exciting blow out breakfasts than hoped but still found a number of nice new things so a win I would say. Except that now my health is such that I am eating rice cakes for breakfast. Yum. With a glass of water. Goody.

Anyway, A felt we needed to go a bit silly this month. September's theme is...titled food! To which I said  "eh?" (And I am not quite sure I get it yet but I will try to explain...)

To "score points" this month, I must make a dish with a name. But the name can't be "sticky chicken" or "roast dinner" as they are simply descriptive. Beef Wellington would count. Spaghetti Bolognese would get half marks (as would any other regionally named dish.)

So far I have scored points with "leftovers" (I thought this would be too descriptive but it seemed to tickle A) and last night's self-named Thai-nese Tickle (griddled trout with Thai sticky rice and stir fried ribbon veg, the ribbony bit being the tickle in my mind...). I need to do some research and look in some different cookbooks as most of the recipes I use tend to have very descriptive names.

(By the way, I am aware I have mentioned strict budget month to quite a few people. We have ultimately decided not to do that as a challenge month but just as something ongoing. I may or may not blog about our findings. But this week I am doing food shopping on a budget that has been chopped by a third. So far, so simple, but the weekend will tell what it is really like.)

A Weird Thing

(A bit more back on topic)

So. I decided that during the summer holidays I would take a two week block and do nothing I found stressful. It took a bit of careful engineering in places to avoid places I find difficult or journeys I find difficult or...but I did, as much as possible while dealing with G and E, none of the things that unnecessarily stress me.

And the effect? Mucho mucho anxiety. Ridiculous levels. By the penultimate day, I was an absolute wreck, completely terrified of a drive home that I know well.

Conclusion? It isn't good to be always in my comfort zone. A and I have discussed this back and forth for much of the past weekend. There are several almost opposite arguments we keep putting forth about what to do about it, new challenges, different challenges, counselling, exercise, study...

No decisions yet. But the basic conclusion was stark, interesting and a starting point.

Temptation

(Disclaimer: I am veering off topic. Probably for a while. It isn't that the anxiety is all fixed, it is just that there isn't really anything to say about it at the moment. And besides, what I am about to say still falls under the category of being honest...)

About eighteen months or so ago, I realised I had a serious problem with self control/will power/temptation. I had none of the first two and there was plenty of the third around. It had snuck up on me because the things tempting me weren't really all that significant. Did it really matter if I ate another chocolate/cake/biscuit? (At that point in time, Esther was about six months old so sugar was clearly one of the major food groups for me.) And if I snapped a little too much at the kids, that was sleep deprivation wasn't it? And if I said something to A that I should not have said, that was gossipy or mean or...well, that's what husbands are for, so you don't say these things anywhere else, right?

So I took action. I cut down on the chocolate, cakes and biscuits. Yes, I know the other two might have been more important areas to think about but it is better to start somewhere than not at all... And actually, cutting down on the treats did help the other two too. By practising self control in a relatively harmless area, if upped my reserves in the tougher areas.

As time wore on, the idea slowly slipped from my mind as resisting cakes became natural and I forgot to keep practising other areas of self control. Until a few weeks ago when I realised I was up against some perhaps rather more significant temptation again.

As has been mentioned before (and by now, at least half of you who I know to be reading this blog have read it) there is this book called 7. One of the biggest impacts on me from it was the whole spending section, where do I spend money? Do I spend all available money "just because"? What could I be doing better with my money? And so on.

I became aware that when feeling low, tired, crabby, I found solace in purchasing. Not big purchases, not evil purchases in themselves, but spending money and buying little treats was a pick me up. A Good Food magazine. A bargain book on Amazon. Some new glasses/tea towels/Tupperware... Always low cost, almost always unnecessary. But what really bothered me was that I found comfort in it. I thought the days of comfort shopping were long behind me now that I no longer view clothes shopping as a recreational pursuit. Turns out I was wrong.

So I noticed that perhaps two months ago. And I was concerned and wanted to change it. Gain comfort and self worth elsewhere. Not fritter away money. I was aware but I wasn't really doing anything about it.

Then about two weeks ago, I noticed a new side to the problem and this side was temptation pure and simple. it turns out, I also buy myself little treats when I am happy and "deserve" them. Things are good! Therefore I must have been working hard! Have a treat! And these treats almost always take the same form: stationery. Beautiful notebooks. Lovely pens. Post it notes. Coloured paper. Writing paper. Any paper! You get the idea.

Since noticing this out and out temptation I have been trying to resist it. I am horrified how hard it has been. I have stood in shops fighting with myself over a notebook. You see, the things I want the notebook for are very worthy so surely it is ok?? G is now trained to say "step away from the craft things, Mummy" if I pause too long.

I am not yet winning on this one, far from it, but I am trying. One of my ideas is to not buy anything that is not on my list when I go to the shops. Though I have to allow myself some kind of get out clause to cover just being too dopey to remember to write milk or apples or other necessities on the list and so I haven't quite fleshed out the "rules" yet as I certainly intend it to cover frivolous food buying as well as paper products!

Eating outdoors...

Well, that was a doddle! Who knew that we would have the most glorious July in years?! We missed a few days of eating outdoors when one child or another was poorly but there were plenty of days when we ate two meals outside (not sure we managed a three meal day at all...)
E loves being outdoors generally and now cries when she has to eat at the dining table instead. G...not such a fan but he is getting the idea at last.

So A decided after a couple of slightly naff months, with June a wash out and July too easy, we needed a proper challenge to get back on track. And so August is breakfast month. The aim being to have no processed food for breakfast for August. A week and a bit in, it is fun and the right mix of challenging but manageable. I have had one semi-fail and the kids haven't always liked the interesting choices and reverted to bought cereal but on the whole, a good month so far...

A cross between fabulous and foreboding

The first day of the school holidays. It isn't actually technically school holidays yet but as G finishes his nursery school week on Thursdays, it is for us.

It started beautifully with a lie in. A lie in! I woke up at 7.20. Feeling lovely and rested and cosy and snoozy. I got up a few minutes later (because a plumber was coming sometime this morning...) and found E and G both mostly awake but pretty chilled. We played upstairs for nearly an hour before pottering down (them still in PJs, me not cos of the whole plumber thing) and having a very slapdash but happy breakfast. We pottered and played and there was a bit of TV. The plumber came and went. We were still very much winning for the day.

We set up the pop up tent in the garden and played jungle explorers. Fundamentally still winning but the edge was wearing thin. I was hot. They were hot. They wanted to be In My Face, On My Knee, All The Time. And G was getting less and less pleasant to be around. I snapped. Then I got it together and we had a nice twenty minutes. Then I snapped. Then I got it together and we had a nice twenty minutes. And so it went on all day. We had some glorious times (jungle explorers featuring heavily as well as nice story times and even finger painting). We had some really grim times. E doesn't do what she is told. Ever. A lot of the time this is ok as fundamentally she is well behaved and doesn't need to be told "no" too often but when she is naughty, nothing makes her stop other than physically removing her from the situation. G does do what he is told on the naughty/dangerous front, but not on the "required for life" front like pulling up his trousers after going to the loo without being asked fifteen times to do it. And so it wears me down.

At last we made it to bedtime. I was determined to end the day on a good note so went up to do bath time instead of sending A. It was going ok until it was time for G to get into his pyjamas at which point the following conversation occurred:

Me: G, can you please put your jammies on while I make your bed.
G: I want to make my bed.
Me: ok, you put your jammies on while I do the sheet, you can help with the pillow and duvet.
G: no, I want to do the sheet (throwing jammies on the floor and flailing dramatically on the bed)
Me: put you PJs on now.
G: (picks up E's hair clip which was on his bed)
Me: (snapping a little) give me that
G: (throws it at me, catching the side of my face)

And so to the naughty step for the last few minutes before bedtime. But it feels like one of those moments that might have saved our summer. I had a few minutes to cool off while getting his sheet on, then we had a lengthy chat about what the problem was and he got to say his piece too (mainly that he thought he was helping by throwing the hair clip at me...) and we finished as friends. Here is hoping it stays that way!

What do you want to know?

It's been a while, hasn't it?

I shall attempt to catch you up on all the different areas you may or may not want to know about...

First up, theme month. Central American and Caribbean month was a total success. We took every possible opportunity to celebrate the cuisine of some fascinating nations. It just happens that "every possible opportunity" in June equates to one possible opportunity...
Now we are in July and revelling in the delights of Eating Outdoors Month. So far, so simple. We have had one day where no meal was consumed outdoors (G was too poorly to cope) but several days when more than one meal was eaten outdoors. We agreed in advance that the challenge would be to eat outdoors when we didn't want to or in places that didn't scream alfresco dining... But here we are, half way through and it has been a piece of cake, a walk in the park...a very well timed heat wave indeed! We did have one picnic while on holiday when it threatened to drizzle and we were on constant guard against aggressive geese so that might earn us points. (Oh and the references to points? A and my lovely cousin-in-law came up with a system whereby I get points for each success in a theme and can then cash them in...I went off the idea after, under suggested tariffs it would take until a few years into retirement to earn a trip to Australia...I would like to visit my brother again before he turns seventy...)

Next up, everything else. I think the main reason for my silence has been the less than perfect health I have experienced during the last few weeks of May and first few weeks of June particularly. Nothing AWFUL but a few old pals rearing their ugly heads and leaving me in a spin wondering which one is the chicken and which is the egg... Do I have more IBS symptoms and need to control my diet more because I am anxious? Am I anxious because the endometriosis symptoms are flaring up? Are the endometriosis symptoms causing or following the IBS symptoms? And so on, and so forth. I saw the GP this morning and have no further answers to these questions, nor have I gained a GP that I really warmed to and feel understands where I am coming from (which would have just been a nice bonus). The anxiety is currently...fine. Totally liveable with. The IBS is currently...fine. Mostly liveable with. The endometriosis is currently...weird. Largely liveable with, occasionally totally flooring. Don't know what the next step is on any of these. Physical side seems to be a big game of wait and see for a few months more. Mental side is fundamentally up to me to push for counselling or CBT or whatever.

I think that is enough for one post, don't you?

In case you were curious...

Presentation month was a total flop. Just too vague and, for me, not something I am interested enough in, at least not at the moment.

So June? June is Central American and Caribbean month. I haven't really made a start on this but have been told I get points for having had some Caribbean people at the table who liked the food I made. But it wasn't Caribbean food. Or Central American. Hoping to make a proper start for date night tomorrow... We shall see...

Talking about the good times

Something that doesn't come naturally to me is blowing my own trumpet. A has always commented on job applications or similar that I just don't sell myself. I write the facts as simply and unobtrusively as possible, which isn't always ideal. (Not that he was ever advocating barefaced lying on CVs, just pointing out the positives rather more than I tended to.)

One of the things I have found hardest since becoming a parent is how to enjoy the good times, and talk about them with friends, without them becoming "aren't I the best parent ever and don't I have the most amazing kids on the planet?" sessions which don't sit well with me or the poor person listening to them. So I mostly try not to talk about the good times. Or to pick extremely innocuous good times. I get it wrong sometimes and have those moments of extreme discomfort when I realise the thing that I take most for granted about my kids (typically related to language development or eating habits as those have been (in the past - don't get my started on the fussy three year old currently living under my roof) the easiest and most fun part of parenting round here) are exactly the things that the person I am talking to beats themselves up over day after day and sees no end in sight to their perceived failure... But not talking about the good things isn't very good for me, or for any of us.

As I have mentioned, I now have a sort of diary where I write the best thing G did and the best thing E did every day. It is definitely a good thing and already I have pages and pages of little notes to look back on (though they don't always make sense a few weeks down the line!) but I think I (we?) need more than that. I think we need to have permission to meet up and not complain about things (though heaven knows we need to keep the permission to complain firmly in place to!). I need to say, without worrying about what it might seem like, that actually, I have had a great few days with my kids. They have driven me crazy once or twice but only within the acceptable spectrum. They have done funny things, sweet things, kind things. They have learnt things, tried things, seen new things. They have, in short, been my absolute most favourite people on the planet (sometimes there is still room in there for A!).

There. I've said it.

Losing Things

And no, I'm not talking about keys. Or shoes. Or children...

Something A and I have been realising recently is what goes missing when things like anxiety or Sadness come to play in your house. There are the fairly obvious ones like "enjoyment" or "get up and go" but the one we have come to notice the most in the past few weeks is creativity.

I have barely picked up any knitting or crochet in about six months. Six months of cold weather at that (having a six month break from cuddling wool during a long hot summer (let me dream) is less surprising).

I don't constantly have something or other ticking away in my mind that I want to be writing, be it blog post, novel, poem, prayer, sermon...whatever.

I don't have the random moments of lunacy where I believe that overnight I have developed incredible artistic skills and can suddenly draw/paint/create beautiful things with ease and serenity.

I have been baking but only as a way of getting the maximum amount of chocolate into my system as possible...

Cooking has been similarly (mostly) just about getting fed.

I am having little teeny tiny wishes with some of these areas now and that is likely to be what has made us notice how lacking they have been. I don't think it is a change I can really force myself but I will be keeping my eyes open for any signs of life.

I'm A Myth

Sorry for the absence, I have tried to write on a number of occasions but never made it past a few sentences for one reason or another. Let's see if this time is any different...

Something I have come to realise ever more strongly over the past few months is that I need to stop believing in "Me". Not as in I need to have no self belief but as in I need to stop thinking things like "I wish I could be myself again" or "the real me would love to do that but at the moment I just can't do it..."

I don't exist, not the Me that I keep thinking I want to return to. When I am honest, I have to admit several things. First, anxiety has been with me in one shape or another for a long, long time now. Not always, but a lot. For example, the summer when I was fourteen, I stopped sleeping. I couldn't sleep until it got light, so around 4am. It was the school holidays so it didn't really matter, I could lie in, and anyway, I was 14 so I could do with quite a small amount of sleep if needed, so it went largely unnoticed by me or anyone else. When I was around 17, I had a spell of stress related headaches that were swept away again. And so it goes on, little pockets, sometimes blamed on something else, sometimes ignored, sometimes acknowledged.

Categorically, the carefree Me who didn't worry about anything, was always free to have fun and only considered consequences as they affected others Does Not Exist. (And probably never, ever did.) Trying to get back to this fictional person (there is more to her than just not worrying, some of it did exist, some never did, you get the idea) is not helpful. It is an unnecessary pressure that is unproductive and down right stupid, too. For a start, I learnt quite some years ago that one of the many benefits of the less nice (!) things we go through in life is the ability to understand others in a similar position. Shortly after one of my early bouts of anxiety I met someone who was struggling with self harm, caused by anxiety and a lack of self worth. Our end points were different but our starting points were similar and so I "got" her more than I might otherwise have done.

I am aware that although I would have chosen a different teacher than anxiety, it has had some good effects. I have considered everything I spend my time on and I have slowed down. I give away time less lightly and so what I do give is more valuable. I spend a lot of time lying on the sofa with my kids climbing all over me (we call it snot and dribble...I won't say any more...) because when it comes down to it, that is what they love to do. They love other things too, but they love it when I have the time to be so unbusy with them that we can have a nice long snot and dribble session.

I can't be my teenage or early twenties self again. Life is different, I am different, and rose tinted glasses just get silly after a while. The more I enjoy being me as I am, the less I try to chase after this particular myth.

No Supermaket Month...

I'll get straight to the point. Had our aim of No Supermarket Month been to actually not set foot in anything related to a supermarket for the whole month, it would have been an epic fail. Even with our rather relaxed "we'll get milk from our local Sainsbury's, and not be too worried if we have to grab a few other things a few times in the month" version of "no" supermarkets, it was still a bit of a fail, technically speaking.

I went to our local Sainsbury's or Co-op (where do they fall on the supermarket spectrum anyway?) quite a few times. On one particular day, I even bought  fruit and veg and bread. Almost all the fails were caused by one bout of ill health or another. Sometimes we needed easy food, sometimes we needed fast shopping before keeling over and at one point a large amount of experimenting with a certain type of product that I had recently become allergic to. So, yes, under the title, big fail.

But.

I did not drive to the supermarket at all. I did not do a mega shop at all. And I did not buy any supermarket meat or fish and very little supermarket fruit and veg.

My conclusions on the month go a like this:

• There things that is simply not worth trying to buy outside the supermarket in this day and age. You pay more for less good quality products. 
• Meat, we could really taste the difference. Our local butcher's sausages are amazing. I am sure there will be times when I grab a pack of mince from Sainsbury's for convenience but we are trying to build a regular trip to the butcher into our routine. It seems worth it.
• We sampled eggs from a range of local sources. There is a farm that we pass once a week that sells its own eggs. The butcher sells eggs. The greengrocer sells eggs. We couldn't taste the difference really. But they were all cheaper and all more local than the supermarkets so we'll be sticking with them whenever possible.
• Fruit and veg is a complex one. Our greengrocer has pretty much everything we want. It balances out at close to the cost of the supermarket, with some thing significantly cheaper and some things more expensive. The challenge thrown down by using a greengrocer is to shop in season more as then it will be a cheaper method. The butcher actually helps with this as they provide regular seasonal recipes! The one main exception to trying to use the greengrocer will be bananas. They are more expensive at the greengrocer by a significant margin and they are not fairly traded. It seems bizarre to pay more for not fairly traded goods. So they will be coming from Sainsbury's. 

So, on the face of it a fail, but rather like our "giving up TV for lent except once a week, except the Six Nations and except cbeebies", we have actually managed to not use the supermarket in a way that we can keep up. The butcher is in, the greengrocer is in, the poncy deli in the village...is mainly out! (They clearly do not like noisy children in their shop...I clearly, therefore, will not be spending much time or money with them!)

May? Presentation Month. Lord, help us!

Smoothly does it

For the past week or so, when anyone has asked me how I am, I have been saying that I have reached a kind of plateau. I am not longer in the realm of panic attacks or major meltdowns, I just feel nervous all the time. Sort of an improvement, sort of not. I have been here before and the trouble with it is, it is perfectly liveable with. I can get by like this. It doesn't stop me doing much and it doesn't have too much negative effect on those around me. But it is very tiring and it does make everything take rather longer than it should.

Take leaving the house to get G to nursery school on time. He's been to the loo, I've been to the loo, E's nappy is ok. Shoes on, coats on. So far so good. Then...I go to the loo, I check the oven, the hob, the fridge door, the front door, the freezer, loo again, check again, right, now is the last possible minute to leave and still be on time so Go Go Go! Instead of a leisurely walk, with G walking and having time to pick up sticks/pebbles/leaves, comment on the various vehicles we pass or the numbers and letters he spots along the way, he is on the buggy board and I'm making myself feel sick with the tension of getting there on time...

It isn't always like that, sometimes better, sometimes worse, but you get the idea. It just makes everything a bit harder and wastes that bit more energy. And longer term, it starts to impact my physical health as all the nervousness starts to take its toll on my systems. Which then makes me more nervous... I need to not accept this plateau long term, a little rest might be acceptable but I can't stop here for long, I have done that before and it was a major error. Fortunately, A and I have both recognised the dangers this time which will go a long way to keeping me moving.

But underneath all that, I am happy at the moment. There have been a few significant things lately, some conversations, some reading, some praying and I have a clarity, ease with myself and general sense of enjoyment that has been hiding for a quite a while. Pretty cool.

An administrative post...

Ok, so a number of you have told me you have tried to comment on posts but not been able to. I have no idea why. But I have been through now and reset all my settings etc. if you have tried to comment in the past and it hasn't worked, please could you try commenting on this post (one word will do!) and we can see if it works yet... Apologies if you have a hair pulling out time trying.

What are you doing about it?

One of you lovely people sent me a link to Jen Hatmaker's latest blog post after I mentioned her in the previous post. It was all about getting "out of the doldrums" and an action plan to do so. For her. Not an action plan for anyone who ever finds themselves in a grump ever! It reminded me that a few of you have asked what I have been trying to do and change as a bit of self help in all this so I thought I'd write you a little list...(I loves a list!)

• Date nights. A and I sort of gave up on quality time together for quite a long time. We would go out when his parents came to stay and were happy babysitters or that sort of thing but there was no regular pattern to actually spending time together. We now have an evening a week when we eat after the kids are in bed, have a glass of wine and a big old chin wag. Sometimes we end up doing organising-y jobs but only the fun ones, like booking a holiday. Quality time is definitely good. :)
• I'm writing down about one sentence a day about G and about E, my favourite memory of them for the day. Yes, it will be a lovely thing to have in the future but that isn't the point, the point is, I go to bed thinking about the lovely cuddle, the new word, the funny story,the amazing bit of sharing. Not the tantrum, the spilt food, the toilet disaster, the loss of temper...
• I'm reading more. This is indicative of a bigger shift - when G was born, I gave up too much "me". First, I was just so tired I couldn't do anything other than look after him. Then, it just became habit. And it felt like I should prioritise all kinds of things above me. And I don't mean above having quality alone time or anything massively self indulgent, I mean doing the things that make me me and reading has always been one of those things. The more I read, the more me I become again. It is one of those things that, for me, indicates overall health. My spiritual life is healthier because I read a novel. Truly. And my mental/emotional life can hardly get over the difference a good book makes!
• Exercise I've already mentioned. It fallen by the wayside a bit with the ill health the past few weeks but the idea is there.

That is probably the lot for now. I am still toying with bigger actions like going to the GP to talk about a bit of cognitive behaviour therapy (my hands may not take much more washing...) or going to see a counsellor. But I am not there yet. Plus, you know, it would eat into my novel reading time...!

A day of rest

I am, and have always been, a huge believer in having a day of rest or a Sabbath. It is one of the things that my parents were extremely clear on and they also made it extremely simple for me to aquire that structure in my life. Get it done in six days, take a rest. I was most grateful of this during exam periods when the nerves and revision can nag away at you all the time...but not on Sundays for me. They never featured on revision timetables (unless I just wanted to enjoy looking at the blankness!) and I got a real break, it didn't even cross my mind to work on a Sunday.

Now, of course, things are rather different. Even before having children, I married someone who works on Sundays pretty regularly. At the moment, it is only once a month but that can be enough to throw the rhythm of life off. And then of course there are the small children and the working 24/7 and not stopping ever ever ever... Except the occasional grand day out on my own, kindly engineered by friends and A.

I still believe in a day of rest. And I don't just believe in it "spiritually". I think it is so important for every part of me, of us. Physically, emotionally, mentally and, yes, spiritually.

This has come up again recently for two reasons - one being "that book" (otherwise known as 7, by Jen Hatmaker, on loan to me from desert mum, and all about the excess in our modern western life and, after six chapters of hard fasting (clothes, food, spending...), she talks in the final chapter about Sabbath and a rest from stress), the other reason being the increased need for a day of rest when facing anxiety.

So how the heck am I going to do that?! I started some time ago making sure I did not use the washing machine on a Sunday (unless there was a dire need/illness...and then I would usually run a smaller load and avoid too much hanging out). It was a tiny step towards making Sunday different but it actually made a big difference. So now I'm thinking about other tiny steps. Tiny steps that give me more of a break and allow me to enjoy more. Enjoy my family, my friends, my church, my God...everything. Any suggestions of ways to not do all the same jobs on a Sunday are welcome! I'm considering a possible approach of not cooking on a Sunday but I haven't quite worked out how yet. Because, quite frankly, reheating can be a sufficient faff. Especially on an anxious day!

This weekend just gone I had quite a lot of rest due to being ill and it was good for me. We also had a family prayer time at dinner. Shocked the life out of us when E coherently joined in (only on the thank you section!). It was a little bumpy and rough round the edges but the kind of bumpy and rough that had "start of something good" written all over it. I hope! Here is to a different kind of day off!

Accidental Blogging

One of the problems of small children is that you don't get to do things when you think of them.

Take my last post. I was really keen to write a positive post, to talk about the good week, the fun times had (two highlights were a trip to a really excellent soft play place that everyone enjoyed, delightful to see G so carefree, and watching E watch a steam train for the first time, you could see the cogs whirring in her little mind) and the general sense of progress. However, there were things to be done, noses to wipe, sleep to be caught, and I simply did not get to write the post when it was on my mind. So then I tried to write it when the time had passed, when the positives were starting to fade and when I felt lousy. It didn't work, for me at any rate. I don't know how it was for you but it was all wrong for me.

So here is my plan. If I miss the boat on a post in my head, I won't write it. Them's the breaks. It might make things more disjointed, but I hope it will keep me a little straighter on the original intention of this blog.

Oh, and today? That was a good day too. Despite the fact that I now have pretty proper flu. I think when my mind gets taken up with something, such as feeling dreadful, it doesn't have time to be so worried. Every cloud...

Two steps forward...

I had a lovely week or so around Easter. There was no sadness and the anxiety diminished day by day, though often haunted me at night making sleep rather broken.

So what changed?

I had been starting to exercise a little and it definitely helps. Often it is just on the Wii fit in the evening so hardly strenuous but I have been running a bit too which also gets me outside and On My Own.

The next change has been an agreement with A that I will get one night off a week if at all possible. What this tends to mean in practice is A sleeps all night and if the kids wake, I still deal with them but I sleep better because I know I don't have to deal with them or if it turns into a saga with whichever child (or both...), I don't need to feel any guilt over getting A to help/take over.

And the last change has been a bit of sun. Wasn't it nice to see blue sky and a feel vaguely like it might be warm again one day! We have a grotty little room at the back of our house called the "sun room". The roof leaks, the carpet is going mouldy, the woodwork is falling to pieces. I'm really not sure what the people who put it up were thinking. Except for a few weeks around this time each year. It isn't warm outside but my goodness, it is roasty toasty in that room! Ahhhh.

Take any of these away and I do start to melt down again. The past few days have taken them all away while I have been too poorly to exercise (a cold and a crazy allergic reaction. Don't ask. Or do, if you want a really embarrassing, ridiculous tale of woe!), utterly shattered (see the poorly bit. Plus G being more poorly than me and keeping me up a lot) and the sun went away. And I cried and I shouted at the kids over nothing and...sigh. But but but. Today, I didn't cry at all. I'll take that!

Africa Month...

When we lived in New Zealand, I went through a small version of Sadness. One thing A decided would help was to sort me out was setting me little challenges, learning to draw (ha! This is me! Never going to be successful!), learning to juggle, making something with sprouts that was actually nice...

Slightly by accident, this has happened again. In January, I decided we would have a month off from buying any meat or fish. We had lots in the freezer we could use if needed and also it would be good for our waistlines after Christmas to just eat more veg. At the end of January we had both enjoyed having a theme to the month and so A set a theme for February (fish) and March (Africa). It wasn't rigorous. We didn't eat fish or african cuisine for every meal but we ate more fish than usual and dabbled with dishes from Africa whenever there was a chance.

And, in terms of Sadness and in general, it has been a success. I have thoroughly enjoyed both fish month (the stand out dish was a mustard and oat topped trout dish) and Africa month (some good tagines but the winners were definitely Tunisian briks and bruinpoeding from South Africa). Having something unstressful, interesting and slightly challenging to focus on is definitely a good thing.

April's theme I fear may not be so successful. No supermarkets. While I like the idea, I fear it doesn't fall into the unstressful category and I'm also not sure it will actually be interesting enough to do good there either. But I may be wrong...or I may yet persuade A to change the theme!

Disclaimer

I've been trying to say the following in every post so far but it hasn't happened. And so a whole post of its own is required.

I don't have depression. A and I are both quite agreed on this. I do have big anxiety problems and I do, on some days, have overwhelming, crippling, prompted by nothing, out of control sadness. But it isn't depression and I don't want to minimise what other people go through with depression by claiming that it is. As already said, I get a break, a really big break often, from the sadness. And that amongst other things makes us quite sure that this is not depression. Just depression is an easy shorthand within our context to say "today was one of the sad days. I couldn't do anything much other than cry a lot. It was horrible". So to be clear from here on, if I want to talk about this side of things on here, I will call it Sadness. Then you'll know what I mean. Or at least what I don't mean.

What is normal, anyway?

Some days, I'm tickety-boo, happy as Larry, getting on with life just fine, thanks.
Yesterday was one such day. It wasn't a perfect day, all sunshine and roses, but I was fine. I reacted to the good things and bad things as I thought I should. Kids misbehaving? They get told off. Kids being fun? I enjoy them. All was level, all was even.

Friday night was another such time. As previously mentioned, A was on nights. G was really poorly during the night. Mostly awake most of the night and when asleep, crying and thrashing about (in my bed by this time). Turned out to be an ear infection and antibiotics are a marvellous thing. The reason for mentioning this episode is that it should not have been ok. You see, around midnight, G puked In My Bed. A lot of the anxiety issues I face come back to my vomit phobia. Yes, I know, no one likes being sick. But most people don't actually have panic attacks when someone is sick near them or they think they might be sick. So G pukes all over my dressing gown (there was enough warning to protect the bedding, phew) and I sit there, rubbing his back, cuddling him, wiping his mouth, telling him it will be ok. In fact, we sit there under the sick covered dressing gown until he falls asleep. Then I creep out and clear up. And it is ok. I texted A to keep him posted but not because I desperately needed his reassurance to be able to cope.

I tell you this for two reasons. One, I think while this blog is in its infancy, getting various facts out there like the vomit phobia is a useful thing to do so that as I move on, you know where I'm coming from a bit more. Success can be celebrated more easily when you know the problem overcome. Failure can be commiserated and moved on from. Two, for those of you who see me regularly, I don't want you to think I'm faking if I seem ok. Chances are, you've got a good day. I might be pretending sometimes too, though I don't think that is always bad either.

It simply isn't predictable when I will be ok and when I won't and that is, I think, my first hurdle to attack. Accepting that one day at a time means just that. Enjoy the good days, really enjoy them. And when the bad days come, remember the good days and have hope that there will be a good one again very soon. God knows my limits. He gives me days off and I must remember to be grateful.

Freakout Friday

I thought I'd tell you a little about the events that preceded the birth of this blog yesterday morning.

I don't think the events are in themselves very interesting or significant, but they are the kind of thing that it is preferable to sweep under the carpet. If I am going to be honest here, I think one of the best ways of starting is to embarrass myself straight off so being honest is a little easier from then on.

A was starting night shifts yesterday and so was around in the morning. Food is always a little complicated when shifting to nocturnal for a few days so we decided for various reasons that we'd have a big breakfast. I was planning to cook but one thing and another meant that A ended up doing most of it. Towards the end of process I came into the kitchen and saw where he had put the spoon he was using to make the scrambled eggs. Propped up against what, to me, is the filthiest part of the cooker, an area we have, sadly, argued over before.

"Why would you do that?" I screech.

And then we are off. When I say we, I really mean me. A shouted back just because being shouted at isn't very fun but I'm really going for it. Higher and higher pitch, louder and louder, more and more panicked. If he can do that with the spoon, what other horrors has he committed? Do I need to tear the kitchen apart and bin all offending items?

By this time, G is howling. I should stop but I can't. A asks me to stop.
"I'm going to bed," I yell and run upstairs.

G follows, very determinedly. When he reaches my bed, we have a cuddle. Then we chat about nothing for a while before he says

"Mummy, I have an idea."
"Oh?"
"Yes, next time Daddy does something you don't like, why don't you just ask him to do something different?"

Yes, darling, why don't I just do that?

An Introduction

Hi, I'm Jen.

I've blogged in the past at different stages of life and I've been resisting rejoining the blogosphere for a little while now. However, I've found I need a little bit of space to get things out of me. I thought long and hard about why I might want to blog rather than just write a diary and I came down to two things that made me decide to go bloggy.

First, I might keep it up a bit better than a diary. I have never been good at keeping up a diary, I have in the past been quite good at keeping up blogging.

Second, some of the stuff, some of the time, I might like second opinions on. I know I might not get them, and I might not like the opinions if I do get them but we shall see! I'm at a time in life where, with two small children, I basically don't get to finish a conversation ever. And I've realised that, among other things, this is starting to cause me some problems.

So that is why a blog.

And now, why anything at all? Well. Since my daughter was born in September 2011, I have struggled with mood swings and generally not being the person I'd like to be that often. It was never quite post natal depression and so it was never quite dealt with. In late December 2012, side effects from some medication pushed me fully into an anxiety and depression cycle. I stopped the medication. After about six weeks, I could tell the side effects were clear but I had not returned to myself. It felt as if a switch had been flipped. I ignored it for a month or so, after all, I was so much better, it would probably go away if swept under the carpet. Not so. Over the past three or four weeks, I have realised I am going to have to Do Something About It. This blog is the start of that something. Somewhere I am going to try to be spectacularly honest about what is going on in my head. Somewhere that perhaps others will want to help me challenge myself and see if I can break this cycle. Somewhere that might give me the courage to do some of the things that might help.

So there you have it. That is what this blog is all about. For now.