Heart hurting sunny days

As I sit here inside the shop, keeping an eye on the weather outside and hoping for it not to rain, at least until after 3 this afternoon so that the blankets I have hang up this morning can be taken inside, I have an immense feeling of despair. I have been feeling like this for most of the week. The weather today, for most of it, has been splendorous. It is warm (20 degrees C is warm for New Zealand), the sun is shining, and apart from the clouds rolling in, the sky is crisp. Most days when the weather looks like today, I am in a cheerful mood, enjoying every minute of my day. But today I feel like crying.

This morning, in the kitchen baking with the kitchen windows wide open, over-looking our lush green back yard, letting the fresh spring air in and having the sunrays dancing on the dining room carpet, I found myself thinking how wonderful it would be if I could stay home. How much there is for me to do at home, how much has been neglected since I started working 55 hour weeks. I would have opened every window and sliding door to get a proper breeze throughout the house and let the magpies’ singing fill the house. I would have sorted, scrubbed, played my music, ironed (and I do NOT like ironing) and washed the delicate mountain of clothes.

Yes it my choice to have these working hours as we get our new part-time staff member on her feet. As a small family business we do what we can to help each other out. And obviously the additional income helps a lot towards our (first in 10 years) family holiday next year. It has only been 3 1/2 months but it feels like a life time!

Today I miss my friends. My lavender companion. Our house. Our dogs. Our random and spontaneous braais. Sitting outside in the shade with our kids when they were babies and toddlers, playing, laughing. I miss the connection with my family. Having Wimpy breakfasts with my sister. Secret Santa with our home group. Our church.

To have these memories are an absolute blessing, but today they hurt my heart.

Day 169 18 June – prize givings galore

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As our annual rhythmic gymnastics competition comes to an end, I can’t express what an eventful day it has been. The support from our rhythmic gymnastics community was incredible and the event ran as per schedule.

It was an experience I wouldn’t want to take on board again any time soon!

Day 168 17 June – darkness

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Today was day 1 of our club’s rhythmic gymnastics competition. Although I worked all day, I managed to get there at 6pm and helped until end of day (which tonight was around 10pm). I think it is safe to say I am pooped!

“Hello darkness my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence” – Simon & Garfunkel The Sound of Silence

Good night world …

Another year older!

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They say with age comes maturity. I don’t know about that. To be mature you have reached the most advanced stage of a process, or are fully developed. I don’t think we EVER reach this point. Although we technically are fully grown by our late teens, we never really stop developing. We go through various stages of transformation throughout our life span. And this is pretty darn exciting because it means there’s room for growth!

It is my birthday today and I have had a few people comment on my age, especially when they find out that I am 37. Well, at least those who are older than me. I don’t know if they thought I was older due to our kids being a similar age, or if I look older than what I am. It is as if they suddenly feel older. I would hate to think that my age might affect someone in a negative way! I usually never say my age and often just refer to myself as ‘a few years short of 40’.

But today is different. Today I embrace that I turned 37. That I am 1 year older. That I am content with my life. That I am in love with life. That it took me 37 years to be in a position to say “c’est la vie”. That I am not afraid of a number. That everyday, good or bad, is a blessing. That I am me.

That’s life, come what may!

 

Day 163 12 June – spreadsheets

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Our annual rhythmic gymnastics club competition is looming and seeing as our previous competition co-ordinator and knower-of-all stepped down from her position, no one really wanted to take on the massive challenge. I volunteered to organise the competition committee meetings as we had to start somewhere, but how I ended  up taking on the role as co-ordinator is beyond me!

Luckily thus far I have a wonderful team of willing mums who are giving up their time and creativity to make this another successful event.

I really DO NOT like spreadsheets!

Day 160 9 June – spills

Today was certainly one of those “I should have stayed in bed” type of days. It seemed that everything I touched turned to custard, and not the edible sweet dessert type. I often have days when I feel jittery and have random, uncontrollable shakes. I don’t know if it is due to not eating properly on that day or being over-tired, but it usually turns my day upside-down.

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But I have noticed that through the photo diary challenge I am able to see the light-hearted side to life, and there was no time to cry over my spilled coffee, especially when it is in the shape of the African continent.

*always look at the bright side of life…*

Day 136 16 May – solace

I clearly remember while visiting my ouma and oupa in Pretoria as a young girl, how often we used to walk through cemeteries. Ouma gave us the freedom to wonder around, reading the names on the tombstones, when they passed and how old they were. I tried to find the youngest child, and the oldest date. She told us that there is nothing to fear amongst the dead.

My slightly over-active imagination played out scenery of beautiful gardens, picturesque homes, floral dresses, picnics by the lakes, old cars, dust roads leading to fields of wild flowers, visiting loved ones by candle light. I wondered who these people were, did they come from a big and loving family, did they have siblings, were they in love. And often I wondered how they died. I wasn’t saddened by these thoughts. It was more as if a sense of gratitude and self awareness settled over me. I felt calm.

I admired the tombstones more than anything else though. Some were so old you couldn’t read the inscriptions. Others were huge, looming over their neighbors like giants in a chest match. Then there were those graves who had a single cross, old, chipped with no name, no identity. This is the only thing that will sadden me; the thought that a family might not have been in a financial position to afford a significant tombstone to honor their loved one.

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Today I wondered into our local rural town and decided to walk around the small cemetery. The one tombstone in particular caught my attention and as the grey clouds rolled in, bringing with it a cold snap, I stood in silence and solace admiring the life beneath my feet.

Pregnancy & ED

by Danielle Sherman Your back hurts from the weight you’re carrying up front, random coarse dark hairs sprout out of your chin that your husband offers to pluck for you (thanks honey!), and oh dammit, is that one coming out of your cheek? Welcome to pregnancy or as Will Smith raps and because it’s catchy AF,…

via Humor in Pregnancy can help ED Mamas-To-Be — Beating Eating Disorders

100% agree! I fell pregnant with my first child at age 23 and was only fully recovered from bulimia for a few months, as I had several relapses leading up to my university 3rd year exams and we had just recently gotten married which put a lot of stress on my mental and physical state. I wasn’t nervous about the probability of gaining weight and didn’t give it much thought, until a dear friend sat me down one afternoon and said she is concerned for my mental health as I will gain weight. She was wondering how I felt about it? And if I will be okay? I appreciated her concern. But I was fine. Really! My mind set at the time was about the survival of our unborn child. It didn’t matter what I ate or how much, as long as I looked after my body because for the next 9 months it will be a safe haven for our baby.

With every doctor visit I gained weight, as I was meant to. Everything about the experience was exciting and I think that I was distracted by the different stages of development and never really worried about it how much weight I should or shouldn’t gain. Each step I took onto the scale was a triumphant one. I wasn’t upset, disappointed. I was healing. One day at a time.

Pregnancy ED

Pregnancy as a recovered ED sufferer can be very daunting, but know that you will be okay. Do not allow ED to take such a precious time in your life away by spoiling your thoughts and actions.

Enjoy. Laugh. Live in the moment.