Another few weeks go by without a blogpost, again with a brilliant excuse.
I went on holiday with family to Spain, I had a lovely time despite a few blips.
The first being when we arrived at the airport at 4am on Sunday to find that our flight had been cancelled. During the next 15 hours or so until we arrived at the villa in Spain, I only had two freak outs. One as we drove home from the airport about what time to go back and how much to trust the airline. The other 15 hours later when I couldn't find the coach that was taking us to the car we had hired.
Did I say car? Sorry I mean van. Actually that was just funny, driving into Puerto Banus on a shopping trip in our little white van, sandwiched between Bentleys and other posh cars. We played a game with the kids, trying to decide what our delivery should be each trip.
I know you'll be wondering, so I'll tell you. Fishing rods to the port, because it's by the sea, and then deliver the fish on the way back to the villa.
Anyway, holiday was nice and quite relaxing. We had a day trip to Gibraltar which we all decided would be gorgeous if owned by someone other than the British. That way you'd get to eat nice healthy food in the sunshine, although you wouldn't have M&S.
So on Thursday morning I am hurrying round the pool, gathering suncream and water bottles and hats and goggles while the kids are getting ready for a swim. Then
Stumble
Snap and twist
Scream
Yes, simply standing still and turning to fetch something I manage to stumble trip. The scream was me telling the kids to move away, the silence was me saying to D I've really really done something bad.
I spent the next 3 days unable to walk on it assuming a bad sprain and getting sympathy by posting photos on Facebook.
Red crutches on Friday bought for 11 Euros help with independence but when on Saturday my toes turned black, I figured all was not well.
Skipping the (don't) meet and assist at the airport, the kind of fun wheelchair through security, ambilift off at Luton, child pushing me hair-raisingly at incoming passengers on way to car, and the new swear words I invented in response to hubby's "man up" comment, we dropped me at A&E on way home to find I had broken and displaced my 5th metatarsal. I made sure I told D I was manning up as the nurse sent me to the plaster room though!
Long story short, temporary cast led to inadequate consultant at fracture clinic who said no pin or cast needed, just walk and see you in seven weeks. Second opinion on Thursday, a week after I hurt it said let's operate the bone is badly twisted.
After the op that night the surgeon said it would not have healed if we hadn't pinned it and that I would have had terrible arthritis.
So, I'm typing this in bed, day 6 of 14 where it must be raised and rested. I now know the following:
Crutches are fun for about a minute
Morphine is great while it lasts and beyond that my body disagrees violently
Codeine and I will never be friends
I am able to safely lie myself on the bathroom floor before fainting after a build up of codeine
6 year old boys do not like immobile nauseous mummies during the summer holidays
Enforced rest is crappy but having no choice helps me to behave...that and the fear put in me by surgeon about a big pin in a very small bone...
And I don't know the following:
Would camping solo with kids and very nice friends be very stupid post day 14 even if am allowed to walk with boot and crutches by then?
Is faking wellness better than admitting pain with angry 6 year olds?
How much apologising and niceness is reasonable to expect from husband who has been on business trip from days 2 to 6 of incarceration and is now asleep on my sickbed, dealing with jet lag, before leaving for a meeting in a few hours?
Whether I am capable of giving in and just going with this resting lark while the house is in disarray despite the amazing and fortuitous former au pair who has been saving things here.
In pure vanity and fitness terms, I don't know whether my left leg should have already have thinned so much. I was afflicted with chicken legs before, hence this stumble trip and broken leg having been put off for so long in one so clumsy??? but my poorly leg already resembles a sparrow. What bird of thin limbs could possibly follow in the next week??
Ah well, new experiences abound.
Day 6, already slightly better than day 5, day 5 much worse than days 3&4
Overall, stoicism and northern grit just about intact.
Wednesday, 17 August 2011
Monday, 25 July 2011
Age 39...
...and I've just decided to embrace the power of makeup.
At some point during my stroppy teenage years I looked at my beautiful mummy who still, to this day, has her routine of putting on makeup as part of her every day, and for some reason decided that that wasn't for me.
I remember thinking that I don't want to get used to wearing makeup every day, so that I don't ever have to hate my face on a day when I don't put it on. Also I was and am a bit anti-routine and lazy and hate feeling like I have to do something every day without fail or else.
So for years I've had some makeup, managed to put it on when going out for the night, or for weddings or parties or whatever. And done that managing not to be too embarrassed at any nice comments that might have ensued. I also have tried very hard over the years not to bristle at the comments I've received when my curly hair has been straight on that day after it's been cut. Which are right up there with the 'oh you look so different, so lovely without your glasses'.
That's really nice and all, along with the straight hair comments, alongside the makeup comments, but actually I have curly hair and glasses and generally can't be arsed with makeup. Which is also ok....isn't it?
And I realise that yes, that is ok, but so is wanting to look nice every day, wanting to go beyond the clean face and moisturiser rule that became my bare minimum. Wanting to allow myself to dress nicely, to feel good and to use the tools that can help me with that. Tools that also include a good night's sleep, plenty of water, remembering to smile and not just frown, and continue to breathe in all the lovely things around me.
As an official bona fide nearly grown up, I now embrace wanting to have nicely highlighted hair and trust my fantastic hairdresser and his advice as to when he will let me realise my ambition to let my grey hair 'run free'.
I look at my mother, my sister in law, my mum, I think of an old friend and her presumably still active lipstick obsession, and think how lovely they look. I must make sure I tell them more often how their effort is appreciated from where I'm sitting. I also think of my own late blooming as one more thing that me and my super sis have in common.
On my recent annual girls weekend, I found myself looking closely at my gorgeous blonde friend's makeup, using it, seeing how nice it looked and grinning at how different I felt. So for my 39th birthday a month ago I asked my mum to buy me the magic Touche Eclat, I bought myself a pressed powder, dug out the bronzer and nice lipstick and liquid eyeliner that has slowly snuck into my top drawer this last year, and started to gently form my little routine.
Nothing or a tiny bit for the glowing good days. A little more help when feeling grey and tired. And the maximum, well my minimum maximum anyway, should there be a camera or a need to feel pretty and instead of standing out as tired and old, allow myself to blend in as having cared enough to try a little.
Yes, that's the difference now.
Now that I'm significantly older, tireder and able to look at the whole Sara in the mirror again, I realise that the makeup I once thought wearing would mean I'd stand out, actually allows me to blend in. But blend in feeling happy, healthy, attractive and comfortable with myself.
So yes, this is a post about shallow things but a realisation that those surface changes are part and parcel of helping me to feel good deep down.
Now, where is that lovely lip gloss?
Friday, 15 July 2011
Camping
I have an ode to camping, having come back a week ago from my third ever camping trip.
Maybe it was the sun and the rain, maybe it was the same four weather-hardy families second year running saying devil may care.
Maybe it was the newly mentally healthy frame of mind that has been sneaking up on me since the fundraiser...
but I had an amazing time.
I didn't feel overwhelmed by the organisation or the situation or the weather or the eating or the keeping warm
I didn't feel underwhelmed by the outdoors experience that I thought should be so much more
What I felt was calm, happy, in control but not controlling.
Eat when hungry, drink when the kids are in bed, go inside when it rains, come out when the sun shines. Wear wellies, tshirts or raincoats, woolly hats and cardigans and shorts and vest tops. Go swimming, make coffee to warm up, eat a little bit too much meat in our excitement of having food cooked on an ever ready BBQ. Paint facepaint tattoos in the sun, swim in the sea, play football, have sneaky smokes behind the bikesheds.
Drink huge rum and cokes and eat snacks and play games and blow up balloons and laugh and chill and have a ball.
Listen to the rain, overwhelmingly loud, slightly worrying about whether we're all being flooded and rolling down the hill, but put all that aside and love the noise and power of nature.
Be clean and a bit dirty and a perfect balance of everything.
Embrace life
Camping rocks
Even in rainy sunny windy Norfolk
Bring on next year
x
Maybe it was the sun and the rain, maybe it was the same four weather-hardy families second year running saying devil may care.
Maybe it was the newly mentally healthy frame of mind that has been sneaking up on me since the fundraiser...
but I had an amazing time.
I didn't feel overwhelmed by the organisation or the situation or the weather or the eating or the keeping warm
I didn't feel underwhelmed by the outdoors experience that I thought should be so much more
What I felt was calm, happy, in control but not controlling.
Eat when hungry, drink when the kids are in bed, go inside when it rains, come out when the sun shines. Wear wellies, tshirts or raincoats, woolly hats and cardigans and shorts and vest tops. Go swimming, make coffee to warm up, eat a little bit too much meat in our excitement of having food cooked on an ever ready BBQ. Paint facepaint tattoos in the sun, swim in the sea, play football, have sneaky smokes behind the bikesheds.
Drink huge rum and cokes and eat snacks and play games and blow up balloons and laugh and chill and have a ball.
Listen to the rain, overwhelmingly loud, slightly worrying about whether we're all being flooded and rolling down the hill, but put all that aside and love the noise and power of nature.
Be clean and a bit dirty and a perfect balance of everything.
Embrace life
Camping rocks
Even in rainy sunny windy Norfolk
Bring on next year
x
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Did It, Loved It
It's four nights on from my fundraising party and I'm finally in front of the computer able to update you all.
Reading back on my last post, I'm so happy to be able to report that I was so happy on the night, all night, even when I was a little bit stressed and frantic.
The venue was gorgeous, the people there were so helpful and professional, there was enough food, the band were awesome and they made our party feel cool and fun and loud.
So many people came to support us and left having enjoyed themselves. My gorgeous niece bought a gaggle of her friends and they helped to boost the atmosphere with their whooping and gay abandon and bring the average age down considerably.
I felt so much kindness and love for us and our boy and our boys. I looked around the room and realised that there was a representative there from pretty much the whole of my life and certainly a cross section of friends from the last 30 years. Many not knowing anyone but me and whoever they came with, but all smiling, most drinking, some singing and all putting up with the hugs and snatched thanks as all they really got from me.
We have raised to date just over £11,000 and I'm utterly overwhelmed and thankful for that. My target was five and I thought that in these times of need that that was a bit pie in the sky. So how glorious it is that everyone has been so generous and how right it was, though hard, to email everyone who I still have email addresses for years on from when we met.
Many people have texted and emailed since to thank and congratulate me on putting the event on and the word inspirational has popped up a few times.
It's funny that word.
Even though I don't think about it often, and can't recall on demand a list of who I find inspirational, I know there are many who would make it on there. Famous and not, alive and not, old, young, sick, healthy, rich, poor. Inspiration comes in many guises, enduring and ephemeral and I think, all terribly important for our aspirational and happy mindsets.
I got through the whole night not crying at all, not during my speech (about which I can tell you nothing), not during my song (about which I can tell you all you need to know...bit low and Barry White but I got away with it, thankfully Beat It snuck up on me later and was such fun) and not even when Alistair, Bonnie, friends and others thanked me and said they were proud.
But typing here with my hair on end, late at night, shaggy old shorts donned, slightly embarrassing dinner digesting as D is away again on business, I feel quite teary about people finding me inspirational. People being so generous as to tell me that and share that loveliness with me. People that I think are quite wonderful themselves.
Because I think deep down under the long encouraged humility and bloody minded playing down that I employ as walls around me, I think that it's massively important to me to think that I can inspire anyone. To do anything. And to be moved by me, us, this.
The tears are coming at last.
What a lucky girl I am
Reading back on my last post, I'm so happy to be able to report that I was so happy on the night, all night, even when I was a little bit stressed and frantic.
The venue was gorgeous, the people there were so helpful and professional, there was enough food, the band were awesome and they made our party feel cool and fun and loud.
So many people came to support us and left having enjoyed themselves. My gorgeous niece bought a gaggle of her friends and they helped to boost the atmosphere with their whooping and gay abandon and bring the average age down considerably.
I felt so much kindness and love for us and our boy and our boys. I looked around the room and realised that there was a representative there from pretty much the whole of my life and certainly a cross section of friends from the last 30 years. Many not knowing anyone but me and whoever they came with, but all smiling, most drinking, some singing and all putting up with the hugs and snatched thanks as all they really got from me.
We have raised to date just over £11,000 and I'm utterly overwhelmed and thankful for that. My target was five and I thought that in these times of need that that was a bit pie in the sky. So how glorious it is that everyone has been so generous and how right it was, though hard, to email everyone who I still have email addresses for years on from when we met.
Many people have texted and emailed since to thank and congratulate me on putting the event on and the word inspirational has popped up a few times.
It's funny that word.
Even though I don't think about it often, and can't recall on demand a list of who I find inspirational, I know there are many who would make it on there. Famous and not, alive and not, old, young, sick, healthy, rich, poor. Inspiration comes in many guises, enduring and ephemeral and I think, all terribly important for our aspirational and happy mindsets.
I got through the whole night not crying at all, not during my speech (about which I can tell you nothing), not during my song (about which I can tell you all you need to know...bit low and Barry White but I got away with it, thankfully Beat It snuck up on me later and was such fun) and not even when Alistair, Bonnie, friends and others thanked me and said they were proud.
But typing here with my hair on end, late at night, shaggy old shorts donned, slightly embarrassing dinner digesting as D is away again on business, I feel quite teary about people finding me inspirational. People being so generous as to tell me that and share that loveliness with me. People that I think are quite wonderful themselves.
Because I think deep down under the long encouraged humility and bloody minded playing down that I employ as walls around me, I think that it's massively important to me to think that I can inspire anyone. To do anything. And to be moved by me, us, this.
The tears are coming at last.
What a lucky girl I am
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
A head full
Contrary to my earlier promises, I've been missing in action on this blog for sometime.
I have plenty of good excuses for this silence, all of them part of normal life and a bit more, that for some reason recently has become rather overwhelming.
So while I haven't been here, I've been quietly getting on with work, home, family and life and the very big thing that is my fundraiser. The first time I've ever taken it upon myself to do a fundraiser for something so personal, rather than mucked in and done them for nursery and/or school with a bit of us thrown in.
And it's very different, very different indeed, involving the unearthing of emotions that for many years have been squashed right down and continue to be on a tight rein.
I spend my time being tearfully grateful for every penny spent on the site and every lovely message of support, and every person who says they're going to come to the party we're throwing. Of being utterly overwhelmed by having reached my target and with so much more to come.
But then the gremlin comes in who takes every innocent lapse from friends or family very personally. Even though I KNOW how busy everyone is and that none of it is meant personally.
I struggle with the friends who took so long to tell me they're coming on the night, I struggle when I've sent gently nagging emails asking people to pay on the site so I can claim giftaid and have less to do on the night, and get no response and no action. And man is it tough to send those emails. Almost as tough as it is for this stubborn girl to ask for help, I mean any help at all.
Yep, irrational irritation and oversensitivity has been taking up too much time in my head and clouding all the good stuff. So last week I took myself in hand. I now avoid the FB event page, am done with those nagging/begging emails and lists upon lists of those who said they'd come but as yet haven't made an appearance.
Instead I'm concentrating on all the AMAZING people who are coming, and trusting that the others will as well, and at all the things that are lined up that I've managed to pull together from friends and family and friends of friends and pure dumb cheek and ballsiness. Raffle prizes and auction prizes from generous wonderful people, a huge guest list of friends and colleagues old and new and family and my closest supporters. A band who are generously giving us their time, a venue also, and the slightly growing calm and excitement that it's nearly here.
I'm a bit dizzy with the to-do lists but I allow myself as I type this to think that I am actually very very proud. Of me and of D for putting up with me and the family too.
On my recent annual girl's weekend, I found myself voluntarily 50ft up some very high trees attached to harnesses and zip wires for three torturous hours. With each new section I chose to carry on, unable to really enjoy it but absolutely frigging determined to do it and survive and hopefully deep down kind of enjoy it in retrospect. My friends who have known me for many many years and through many many times all seemed to be rather shocked. At precisely how pig headed and stubborn I was and could be, facing my apparently enormous fear of heights.
I'm telling this because I did this Go Ape challenge partly so I could use it for a life metaphor wherever I found it. For work, it allowed me to have a serious chat and say out loud that I was struggling to cope with the full time thing. A chat finally out of my head and house and in the right direction. For home it allowed me to see that while the fundraiser has been tough to do essentially on my own, I'm not steaming through it head down angry and determined to finish. I'm enjoying the sensation of achieving, enjoying the pride in my friends and everyone else.
And I will find the time to work out what to wear, how to look in the mirror and do my hair and makeup and look and feel nice, and most of all, how to host a party and enjoy every minute. Even the stressful busy and inevitably emotional bits.
Bring it on. My page is on this link below. Come see what I'm talking about and thanks all who do.
What It's All About
xxx
I have plenty of good excuses for this silence, all of them part of normal life and a bit more, that for some reason recently has become rather overwhelming.
So while I haven't been here, I've been quietly getting on with work, home, family and life and the very big thing that is my fundraiser. The first time I've ever taken it upon myself to do a fundraiser for something so personal, rather than mucked in and done them for nursery and/or school with a bit of us thrown in.
And it's very different, very different indeed, involving the unearthing of emotions that for many years have been squashed right down and continue to be on a tight rein.
I spend my time being tearfully grateful for every penny spent on the site and every lovely message of support, and every person who says they're going to come to the party we're throwing. Of being utterly overwhelmed by having reached my target and with so much more to come.
But then the gremlin comes in who takes every innocent lapse from friends or family very personally. Even though I KNOW how busy everyone is and that none of it is meant personally.
I struggle with the friends who took so long to tell me they're coming on the night, I struggle when I've sent gently nagging emails asking people to pay on the site so I can claim giftaid and have less to do on the night, and get no response and no action. And man is it tough to send those emails. Almost as tough as it is for this stubborn girl to ask for help, I mean any help at all.
Yep, irrational irritation and oversensitivity has been taking up too much time in my head and clouding all the good stuff. So last week I took myself in hand. I now avoid the FB event page, am done with those nagging/begging emails and lists upon lists of those who said they'd come but as yet haven't made an appearance.
Instead I'm concentrating on all the AMAZING people who are coming, and trusting that the others will as well, and at all the things that are lined up that I've managed to pull together from friends and family and friends of friends and pure dumb cheek and ballsiness. Raffle prizes and auction prizes from generous wonderful people, a huge guest list of friends and colleagues old and new and family and my closest supporters. A band who are generously giving us their time, a venue also, and the slightly growing calm and excitement that it's nearly here.
I'm a bit dizzy with the to-do lists but I allow myself as I type this to think that I am actually very very proud. Of me and of D for putting up with me and the family too.
On my recent annual girl's weekend, I found myself voluntarily 50ft up some very high trees attached to harnesses and zip wires for three torturous hours. With each new section I chose to carry on, unable to really enjoy it but absolutely frigging determined to do it and survive and hopefully deep down kind of enjoy it in retrospect. My friends who have known me for many many years and through many many times all seemed to be rather shocked. At precisely how pig headed and stubborn I was and could be, facing my apparently enormous fear of heights.
I'm telling this because I did this Go Ape challenge partly so I could use it for a life metaphor wherever I found it. For work, it allowed me to have a serious chat and say out loud that I was struggling to cope with the full time thing. A chat finally out of my head and house and in the right direction. For home it allowed me to see that while the fundraiser has been tough to do essentially on my own, I'm not steaming through it head down angry and determined to finish. I'm enjoying the sensation of achieving, enjoying the pride in my friends and everyone else.
And I will find the time to work out what to wear, how to look in the mirror and do my hair and makeup and look and feel nice, and most of all, how to host a party and enjoy every minute. Even the stressful busy and inevitably emotional bits.
Bring it on. My page is on this link below. Come see what I'm talking about and thanks all who do.
What It's All About
xxx
Monday, 6 June 2011
Monday on a Train
Today I left for work with a wonderful send off from my big boy.
He stood at the door and the final image I have after his "bye, love you" was him motioning for me to put on my hood as it was drizzling, before he shut the door with a smile.
Just thinking about this wonderfully small moment makes me grin.
How lovely it feels to write about this and not the more mundane, stressy, annoying, uninspiring, confusing other things that swirl around in and among the sparkles of happiness in my day to day.
So the post ends here, on a smile and a lovely wise silly caring and special little 6 year old boy
Xxx
He stood at the door and the final image I have after his "bye, love you" was him motioning for me to put on my hood as it was drizzling, before he shut the door with a smile.
Just thinking about this wonderfully small moment makes me grin.
How lovely it feels to write about this and not the more mundane, stressy, annoying, uninspiring, confusing other things that swirl around in and among the sparkles of happiness in my day to day.
So the post ends here, on a smile and a lovely wise silly caring and special little 6 year old boy
Xxx
Tuesday, 17 May 2011
Here's One I Made Earlier
Thought I'd show you all a little progression in my handling the new diagnoses. Best way to do so is through a little blog post I did for the wonderful Different Iz Good.
Momentary Perspective Post for DIG
xx
Momentary Perspective Post for DIG
xx
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