post secrets...

On post secret this week... This would be one of my secrets... When I feel like I just don't want to do this anymore I keep telling myself "I am a good person, I am a good person"... and I do believe it, no matter now dark I feel.... I know I am a good person.

who comes first?

The title of this week's email for the 12 week body transformation program is "who comes first, you or them?" and this hits the nail on the head for me.
In the last two rounds of 12wbt the biggest challenge for me has been holding on to my commitment to the program in the face of "inconveniencing" others.  My family are here and cooking - so I tell myself I don't want to put them out by making them either eat my food or have a separate meal to me.  My friends are eating out and I tell myself its rude not to join in, to eat my own food before I go or not join them for the meal at all.  Someone comes to visit and brings or suggests food I shouldn't eat... well it would be rude to say no to a guest, wouldn't it.  I go to someone's house and they have deliberately prepared something gluten free for me... but its not something I should eat on my diet...you get the picture!  Ninety-nine percent of the time the perceived "inconvenience" is in my own mind - no one else has ever expressed annoyance... I do their thinking for them and acquiesce before they have a chance to object.
And I reflect on this theme in the bigger picture and I realise how often I am faced with the choice between going for my own goals or fitting in with something that suits someone else... And I realise how much of my life I have wasted fitting in with what suits others... driven by a deep need to be liked that is stronger then the wish to achieve my own goals in life.  And now I notice, as I turn 40, that I feel that I am finally moving away from this thinking.  I am disillusioned with working hard to be liked by others, sacrificing my own goals to meet what I think others expect of me.  And I am starting to resist... to try and stand up for myself and put myself first.
In making this decision I have to accept that I may end up spending more time alone.  And I have to be ok with this.  I need to let go of needing to fill my life with other people's approval to feel ok about myself.  I can instead find my sense of self worth from the goals that I achieve.  And in the end, I think that if I am feeling good about myself and the things I am achieving in my life I will paradoxically be more interesting and likeable to others anyway.
So last year I made a pact with myself that I would listen to my guts and if something didn't feel right then I wouldn't do it.  And I have been relatively true to that.
This year I make a pact with myself that I am going to put my own personal goals before pleasing others.  Not to the degree that means I neglect their real needs or am uncaring... but I am going to prioritise the things that I want and need in life... and take responsibility for that.   I will stop making my relationships with others the source of my happiness and self esteme, and start taking responsibility for my own happiness.
So this is how I use my life theme of "aloneness" to be build my strengths rather than undermine me! (see previous post)

I just wanna be great...

So I just wanna be great at something...
Is it too much to ask?
I have been searching, for all of my adult life and for a fairly large proportion of my teenage life, for the thing that I can be great at. 
I always thought I would do something that would make the world a better place and yet here I am... turning 40... running statistical reports and dreaming of being great at something.
I guess I should stop dreaming and just be great at this report. 
Sigh.
At some point I may need to stop dreaming about saving the world and just make the best of it because I may never find the something that I am great at.
Not that I am not good at things... I am good at lots of things... just not great.
What do you think?... do I keep searching?  or be just be great at being "good" at a bunch of stuff...?

I'm a parent??

I'm loving this line from Suburban Snapshots
"one of those events when you realize that you think like a parent no matter how much you might feel like you just play one on t.v."
most of the time I don't even think about being a parent... i just do it.
some of the time I feel like I am play-acting...
and sometimes I stop and catch my breath and realise I am not just "doing" parenting... I AM a parent.
Its huge.

aloneness

So tonight I had the pleasure of skype chatting with one of my dearest old friends...
She mentioned, in passing, her view of her own life theme in such a moving way... While I processed my reaction to her words... I took a moment to ask myself : what word is my life theme?
And the first thing that came to mind was : Aloneness.
Aloneness is my life theme.
I have experienced it, fought it, avoided it, craved it... I have retreated into and sunk into it.  It is the thing that both undoes my sanity and replenishes my spirit - depending on the circumstances.  I hate it and I need it.
Love it and Hate it... It is undoubtably a central theme of my life.
So I ask myself... "how can I turn this theme into a strength?"

being

In a world that constantly shifts beneath our feet
the only thing we can know for sure is how we feel
the love we have
the fear we hide from
the pain we push away
give it a voice
and the rewards are peace of mind and a peaceful heart.
Being Erica

the rotunda of resistence

So I have noticed that my child seems to need to resist authority.  Heaven alone knows where she gets this from!? (shuddup you, and you too... you know who you are....)
So there are battles she chooses.  Trust me, she very rarely wins.  Its been a stretch but this passive people-pleasing wanna-be-liked aquarian has found her inner mule and I WILL WIN damn it...
And I am more able to step back from the fight and let frustration and exasperation flow around me because I have seen the pattern now.  It will not last for long... She rotates the battles.
One week its eating... tightly squeezed lips determinately stare down the spoon... No No No I will not eat.... Ok child, starve then.
The next week... its bathing.  No No No I will not have a bath or a shower.... Right, stand her in the shower screaming her lungs out while I hold her down and spray water over her once, and the next night she gives in much more easily!  (Dear Child Safety Services - really, its just noise, she is not genuinely injured, it is only her pride that is bruised... really!)
The next week its dressing.... No No No I will not take my pj's off, take my clothes off, put my pj's on, put my clothes on... little arms fused to sides... little legs straight and kicking....
Once again... holding her down and a few trips to time out later and mummy wins again.
Thank heavens I am still bigger and stronger.
And trust me - I know how to negotiate... I explain logically, I bribe, I cajole, I order... and then I disengage from the argument and apply appropriate consequences.  I get the job done.
And then its back on the rotunda for the next target of resistance.

Its a damn good thing she is cute!

Tick Tick Tick

So time she is a ticking...
Its August.
I leave for Fiji in January.
Oh god.
I have five full months.
Well actually I plan to go over in January for a couple of weeks, find a house, car, nanny etc and come back for my 40th at the end of January... before leaving for real mid February.
My littlest bestie will be born in early Feb and as I listen to the stories of his growth I cannot help but reflect that as we speed towards his entering this little happy Brisbane world, we also speed inexorably towards my time for leaving it.
I know I have been through it all in my head at length... I know its the right thing to do... but still I am nervous and I want the time to go slowly.  I want to milk the essence of every moment here in this little enjoyable life before I head off into the unknown.
Time ticks on... and on....

placentally wrong...

So I have long had a morbid and horrified fascination for the things that people do with placentas.  Ever since the strict vegetarian in my baby yoga class proudly announced that she stir-fried hers with chinese greens and it was "delicious", I have watched out for placental anecdotes with a slightly stronger "disgusted yet can't quite look away" kind of the same reaction as oh, "kids who consume their own poo" stories...
Today, thanks to "Rants from Mommyland" comes the latest gold offering...

At least its cheap!

I'm concentrating...

I pride myself on being a pretty verbal person... I know how to string a sentence together, and heaven and my friends know I like a good chat or two.  So its no real surprise that my child is handy with a noun. 
I love our conversations... she is imaginative, creative in her descriptions of things she observes, logical and entertaining... and sometimes she leaves even me a little lost for words.
Yesterday I politely requested that she come and put on warmer clothes for a promised park outing... She responded "hang on a sec' mummy, I'm concentrating on putting these blocks away"...
"I'm concentrating?" I mean sheesh... the kid is not two and a half yet. 
At least I am still bigger and stronger!
Yeah...

12wbt self inspiration moment...

I need a bit of this....

Extraordinary people have some distinctive traits:

Passionate - Courageously pursue a path they are passionate about. They draw inspiration from others and surround themselves with like-minded people.
Never give up - When an obstacle comes up, they work through it, no matter how tough it might be. They are relentless and recognise that every journey has it's speed bumps.
Resilient Mindset - An extraordinary person creates a mindset that is resilient. A mindset that works with them not against them. An internal programming that lets them know they will achieve their goal. They have an inner faith in themselves.
Disciplined - They work hard, even when they don't feel like it. They recognise that there are times to reap and times to sow. They keep going when many others would stop.
Raise the bar - They achieve and succeed. And when they reach their goals, they set new ones, growing their inner faith and inspiring others around them.

crawling along...

As is the way with those amongst us who are fallibly normal... one's commitment to one's goals waxes and wanes... and the initial rush of novelty of change does not last forever.  My weight loss journey continues, limping at times, but determinantly moving along... another kilo has finally hit the dirt... but this sodding cold weather is proving challenging to the will power and self restraint!  A bikini seems a looooong way away, and that hearty mashed potato, hot chocolate and crunchy toast beckons cruelly....
I limp along but along I do still limp... and I have a new zest for exercise that has impressed me.  Whilst I will not claim to, yet, be addicted enough to brave the freezing rain to complete my intended runs in the last couple of days (I have definite room for improvement) I have been motivated enough to regularly manage to get to a lunch time zumba class each week... even doubling up with the gym as well one day! 
I am slowly starting to change the habitual brain process which looks for an excuse not to exercise and only agrees to it if no suitable excuse can be found - and move towards a mind frame which does not accept an excuse unless it is unavoidable.    I actually look forward to my monday-wednesday morning gym routine... and my exciting gift to myself last week was not clothes, or food, but the complete set of zumba dvd's!  I was more excited about that than I have been in a long time! 
So I see that I am changing. 
And the changes are not just in relation to exercise.  My will power and general belief in myself has changed in ways that go across all areas of my life.  I know now that I can achieve my goals...and this affects me on lots of levels.  I have been facing high pressure situations at work - and not undermining myself, or doubting myself, and have been achieving successes - with much less stress level than in the past.  I have greatly reduced my fear levels about my upcoming overseas move.... trusting that I will be able to make it work for me if I maintain this positive sense of self valuing... I have switched the default setting in my brain from "i'm not sure I can do it...." to "I am pretty damn sure I can do it....".
It feels good.

my first "i love you"...

So I have been trying to encourage the angel to tell me she loves me... I know, it feels kinda wrong to coach her on that...but I figure how is she going to know that its important to tell people if I don't let her know that I like it!?   So she dutifully repeats "I love you mummy" when prompted, but I take it with a grain of the proverbial seasoning. 
One day this week I had a moment, watching her run down the hall, when I wondered if I would hear her spontaneously say those words one day.  I thought about kids with autism, and how utterly heart breaking it must be to never experience your child's love overtly expressed...
In one of those strange quirks of the universe, my ruminated wishes were answered moments later. 
We were sitting on our front step drying our hair in the sun after our morning shower.  We were chatting about something, I don't know what.... and suddenly she looked up at me, and in her eyes was such an incredibly strong and undeniable expression of love... in that moment I thought, in a split second, "Oh, she does love me!".... and then, amazingly, she said it.  She threw her face against me and snuggled in and announced "I love you!". 
It was so powerful, so genuine, so heartfelt. 
I burst into tears immediately, which caused her no small consternation... but I made sure to reasure her that mummy was very happy indeed.
:-)
These are landmark moments - not road signs, but mountains on the parenting journey.

Thats family mummy!

"knock me down with a feather" moment #309747009

So when I was pregnant I had a baby party.   I invited some close friends over, and in anticipation of the arrival of my angel daughter I wanted to create a picture for her bedroom wall that would bring together the important "aunties" in her life.  I called them the fairy god-aunties... a special group of people who would love her.
To do this I gave everyone a small canvas and laid out an array of paints and pens and brushes and collage materials etc.
And people created some gorgeous little images... full of love.
I had them velcro-dotted to a board and hung in her room when my angel was a baby... but the vecro dot's stick didn't last, and after a while I took them down to glue them properly.   Life goes on, fast forward past a lot of distraction, and this week I finally re-hung the properly glued board of clustered colourful canvases. 
And I showed the angel.... "These were painted for you when you were still in mummy's tummy".  I didn't mention the aunties idea... but I did go through and name each painting by who did it.
She seemed quite interested.
Then later in the week I was astounded, delighted and fascinated by the angel's wisdom, once again.  I followed her into her room one night and discovered her standing gazing up at the board of canvases. 
"mummy," she says "thats family!".  She then started reciting all of the names that she could remember.
bless her....
she said it again a few days later.... look mummy.... its family!
Just gorgeous.

Milestone Achieved!

So last February I blithely commented that I really needed to lose 10kg.  I said it lightly, with no conviction that I would actually be able to do it....
It seemed an insummountable mountain of a goal.
I've never achieved anything like that kind of weight loss before... of course I had also never been so large before.
And today .... Four months later...
I have lost 10kg.
This week three different people at work stopped in their tracks and commented on how much weight I had lost. It feels gooooooood.

ouch

So I know that I am no opera singer...
And I was mucking around and being a bit silly...
But it was somewhat humbling when I paused in my singing in the shower this morning to hear the angel, standing at the bathroom door, asking
"mummy are you alright?  mummy sick?"
Sigh...

let them eat carrots

Its been a rough parenting day... After being sick for a week and fussed over, its "I rule the world" week in the angel's opinion...
Its a good thing that it was lightened signficantly by one of the frequent but random moments of extreme cuteness that make me burst into spontaneous joyous laughter...
This one I have remembered to save for prosperity...
Today we lost the treasured  bed bunny at school.  Luckily I have two...but it was with concern that I asked the angel repeatedly to help me look for bunny, and eventually we gave up and left for home.
Half way home her little voice pipes up "mummy, where is bunny?"
"I don't know, we couldn't find him at school"
"mummy where is bunny?"
"I don't know, he's lost"
"mummy, where's bunny?"
"Sweetie.... (sigh) I don't know where bunny is..."
"Mummy, bunny's gone to buy carrots".

These are the moments...

hungry hungry hungry

so its week three of twelve.
and I am hungry.
Its cold...
My body wants filling yummy rich tasty food
my body wants to fill up for the winter months
my body wants to stockpile fuel
my mouth wants to eat and eat and eat
my mind argues...
"just give in to it" the inner labrador rebel calls to me...
"stick with it! you can do it" the inner cheer leader counters...
"baaaaaaaah" the inner grump shouts "I bloody want chocolate, is that a crime??"
"you know you will regret it when you stand on the scales" the inner nag directs
"one day won't hurt" whines the inner manipulator
"one day becomes many days all too easily" says the voice of experience...
no wonder it feels exhausting in here!

this is what it is all about...

doing something.

So I seem to have committed myself to embarking on another adventure...
I seem to have said Yes to going back to work in Fiji.
I seem to have said that I would uproot my comfortable life here, and move to a country where I know almost no-one, where I don't connect with the culture, where I have no support networks, where my lifestyle is unacceptable, where I will have no babysitters or support with Indi, where she will be in a totally new and unfamiliar environment and have to get used to a new day care centre with unfamiliar looking kids, new nanny, new home...where I will be doing a new and highly responsible job, and coming home to an empty house, alone.
I seem to be feeling a not insubstantial level of anxiety about this.
The job offer in Fiji came at a time when I desperately needed a way out of the stuckness of my daily life. I was feeling trapped in a ground hog day, unable to resolve several critical issues in my life, feeling empty and numb inside and knowing I needed to find myself and my passion and my enthusiasm for life again.  So I put it out there to the universe that I needed something, anything, that would get me out of my stuckness and into life again, something that would make me feel like I was living some kind of meaningful existance beyond raising my child and the day to day routines of an everyday life.
And the universe provided.  Out of the blue an email arrived in my inbox offering me an opportunity too good to refuse.  I was asked to return to the organisation I worked with before, the organisation that changed my life last time I was stuck, to the place where I found myself again last time, to the job that made me feel like I was making a difference in the world.  But this time I was asked to return as the Director... to take over from my old boss and run the show.
This is the opportunity I needed.  Exactly.  This, I have learned, is how things happen in my life when I am on my path.  Exactly the right thing happens at exactly the right time.  I just need to have the courage to go with it.  This is the way of my path... When I am not on my path everything seems hard and every way I go I come up against obstacles.  When I am on my path - great things unroll before my eyes and everything falls neatly into place.  I just need to have enough faith to put my foot forward and take the first step.
And so I knew I needed to say yes.  It wasn't easy.  I sat with indecision for months... fear of change battled with need for change.  Fear of the loss of my comfortable life battled with the need to escape my comfortable life.  The need to do something meaningful battled with my fear of being inadequate in trying to do something meaningful.  The knowledge that this opportunity represented everything I had said I wanted to do at exactly this point of my life battled with the fear that I would actually have to DO the things I said I wanted to do...
And so I said Yes.
I felt the fear... and I stepped forward anyway.
And I am still feeling the fear.
I potter along in my comfortable life, living day to day, enjoying the moments... and then in a moment I remember... I remember that in a little over 6 months I will be gone.  My daughter and I will get on an airplane and go to a foreign country and we will be alone.  I will take on a new enormous responsibility.  I will be alone in the evenings, with my sleeping child.  I won't be here to see my friends babies grow into their first years.  I won't be here to spend weekends with my family, watching Indi and her grandparents enjoy each other.  I won't be here to hold my partner's hand.
And in those moments I think "holy crap what have I done?"... and my heart rises into the back of my throat and the world around me goes a little blurry... and often I simply choose to stop thinking about it, take a deep breath and focus on the present moment... and my breathing slows back down and the tears subside and I feel some semblance of normal again.  But the anxiety stays there in the background, underneath, lurking, nibbling at my mind, chasing me in the quiet moments.
So I need to combat the anxiety - and to do this I need to stay connected with the reasons why I do want to do this.  When I focus on everything that I am losing and the risks and unknown elements I lose faith in myself and in my path.  If I am to continue to breath normally I need to keep reminding myself of what I wanted when I invited this opportunity into my life.  I need to keep remembering that this is an opportunity not a sentence.
This is my chance to make a difference in the world.  This is my chance to help people, to help a really valuable and important organisation to do really valuable and important work with people who really need it.  This is actually not about me.  It is not about my lifestyle or really my career (although it will help that too).  It is not about comfort or friends or nice cafes.  It is about something bigger.  This is about being in the world in a way which makes the world a slightly better place.  This is about living a meaningful life.  This is about living from my heart (rather than my desires).  If I wanted a comfortable life that was just about satisfying my wants, then I would stay here.... I would enjoy the cafes and the friends and the nights out when my parents babysit, and the nice days out in the nice parks with my daughter, and the good food in the supermarkets, and the wonderful pleasantness of it all.
Recently in a waiting room I read a magazine article about a girl who, at 25 years old, is living in Cambodia running an orphanage.  She has given up a comfortable young life of clubs and bars and weekends away with friends... and of building a cushy career and wearing nice clothes and meeting boys... and she is looking after kids who really need her.  And she has no intension of coming home.  She is happy.  And I was shocked.  How could she really give up a fun life at home to sacrifice in that way for the kids?  And then I was shocked at myself!  How did I become someone who was shocked by that!?  When I was her age I would have understood completely.  I would have wanted to go myself.  When I was younger than her I did go out in the world myself and want to do good.  I really really wanted to do good in the world.  I was passionate about compassion.  I lived from my heart.  And then over the years that passion faded... Somehow I started to care about good coffee and a nice lifestyle more than I cared about the poor of the world.  Somehow I started to care about looking pretty and having a pretty house and eating pretty food and buying pretty toys for my daughter.
Somehow I lost my passion.
I don't meditate anymore.
I don't know how I feel anymore.
Its no wonder I feel numb - I don't connect with my heart anymore.
So this is my chance.  This is my chance to go out in the world and find my heart again.  This is my chance to put aside my attachment to my own comfortable little life and embrace the bigger picture.  This decision to go is not about my lifestyle... it is about doing what is right, what is meaningful, what helps people, what makes a difference.
So I need to stop focusing on whether I will find nice friends or a nice house or a nice car.  I need to stop worrying about whether I will have a nice lifestyle in Fiji...
And I need to focus on the fact that this is my opportunity to be the person I once believed I could be.
My favourite quote is :
I cannot do everything, but I can still do something.... and I will not refuse to do the something I can do.  Helen Keller

This is about doing something.

Just for the kicks...

Im a thwarted restauranteur... And I love making yummy food for the angel... Such a shame she won't eat anything but jatz and pear and chocolate this week. I keep trying... More for my sake than hers!

Week One again....

So its week one of the second round of my 12 week program....
And I am happy.
I am happy because despite the little voice in my head which says "cheesecake makes me happy!", actually being healthy and strong makes me happier...
I am happy because today I did the 1km walk/run part of the fitness test at the start of this round and I realised I can run... in the past I was puffing after less than a minute of running.... but this time I found myself bounding along happily.  Its only my shin splints that prevent me from running more.  My shins hurt... they still hurt... but thats something I just need to live with.
I am happy because I have already lost 1.5kg of the 2 kg that I put on in the break between the end of the last round and the start of this one.  I must confess that I binged a wee bit... My mind played tricky tricks on me - telling me to stock up on the naughties while I could and that I would feel more motivated on the next round if I had "had my fill" of the bad stuff before I started.... silly mind! Although I am feeling pretty motivated so perhaps feeling sick from too much cake did help in some way.
I am happy because I did Zumba for the first time and this has been one of my goals for a really long time.  I have been too nervous to go to a class because I thought I would be too unfit to keep up.  This fear, combination with my natural lack of ability to follow the moves in classes, meant I keep looking at the timetables and being too embarrased to turn up.   This week I did a lunch time express class... and I loved it!  Sure I was often on the wrong leg, and I had to concentrate really hard to get my arms and legs doing different things at the same time, but once I started to get the hang of it my inner dancing demon came out and I loved it!  I am hooked, I want more!
I am happy because I am now wearing my pre-pregnancy jeans.
I am happy because my ultimate weight loss goals are in sight and seem possible.
I am happy because I am proud of myself.

12wbt Round 2

So I am writing my commitment to the next round of the 12wbt program.  I am starting again, another 12 weeks.  Once again I find myself already plagued by self doubt.  Will I give up after a couple of weeks?  Will I start cheating and let it all unravel?  Will I let life get in the way of my goals?
I'm trying to find my inner self will.  This is my commitment statement.

My commitment is to myself.  I will find my focus, and I will hold on tight to it.  I will be consistent because I will put my own needs before keeping others happy.  Being on this program is not always convenient for other people.  I can't go out for sunday breakfast, or dinner.  I can't join in with the celebration cake or drinks.  I can't fit in with other people's plans.  I can't be convenient.  This is a huge change for me... I am accustomed to not rocking the boat. 
My commitment is therefore to put myself first, my health first, my self esteme first.  I loved the last round of this program, and for the first 9 weeks I did really well.... and then I sabotaged.  I lost focus.  I started putting other people's convenience first, people pleasing and not really believing that I could be the slim attractive successful woman I once was.  I stopped putting myself first because I stopped believing that I deserved it.
My commitment is therefore to believe I can be the woman I want to be, that I can do it, that I can live my dreams.
No self limiting, no self sabotage.

Mmhmmm

Is this the face of a child who is doing good listening? (hint: mummy said don't drink the bathwater)

Owie!

Oh dear... In the time it took me to say "don't touch mummy's shaver, it's sharp"... The angel sliced the top of her thumb. There is nothing quite like the sight of copious quantities of baby blood to bring out your inner nausea monster! Anyone else's injuries inspire the stoic in me... But the angel being hurt... Shudder! She proved singularly unimpressed with the spunky "sticker" and had to be bribed to leave it on. It's just as well we had the best possible medicine... Mmmm chocolate!

Blaaaa

So I am on a two week break between 12wbt rounds... And have given myself permission to eat at will and satisfy any lingering cravings before I start another 12 weeks of committed focus. I also gave myself permission to take off the regular exercise focus and let other things in life come first... Blaaaa and bluck. I feel yuck. Although my eating has been what I would once have called normal... I feel bloated and toxic. I miss clean eating! I miss exercise!
Sheesh...

Sent from my iPhone

A slippery slope

So its week 11 of my 12 week weight loss challenge.  I feel both proud and disappointed.  I have lost an incredible 8kg... which feels so wonderful and I am so incredibly pleased with myself.  I put on clothes, and they fit.  I dress once, without having to change 4 times to find something that doesn't make me feel enormous.  I look in the mirror and I like what I see...
At the same time I am also disappointed that I have stalled.  My challenge is now to move to the next level of loss, out of my current wardrobe and into the small clothes I have packed away.  Its been too easy to rest on my laurels now.  I have lost focus and I want it back.
I have two weeks of this 12 week round to go and I recommit myself to getting and staying on track.  I then maintain myself for a few weeks, and will start a second 12 week program at the end of May. My overall goal is to lose 15kg... which will see me under 60 kg for the first time since my early 20's.
Its a hugely challenging goal and one that I already find myself doubting my capacity to achieve.  It will require an incredible amount of physical effort, but more than that is the mental work involved.  My mental image of myself is about where I am now.  I let go of the hope of ever being smaller than this again, and I am not really sure how I will get my head around it or what it will mean for me.
One thing I am sure of, having learnt it from experience... it will be achieved through consistency, with humility and not thinking I know better than the program, and by focusing on one kilo at a time.
One step at a time, up the slippery slope...