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.