Fencing

Tomorrow child number 3 starts her first fencing lesson at her new school.

Fencing

Totally different to any fencing her father did in his youth!

Obviously I mean this…………..

Fencing 2

 

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Second generation of Fitbit addicts!!

My youngest 2 children decided that they wanted Fitbits a few weeks ago.  As it was just before Easter, and I knew they’d get loads of chocolate anyway, I suggested they had them as an Easter gift in lieu of an Easter egg from us. What a healthy option!

They have worn them loads since – and are very competitive with each other – and me and their Auntie!

The other night I went to put the 7 year old to bed and she said ‘I think I’m going to wear my Fitbit to sleep in tonight’

I replied ‘Oh, do you want it to monitor your sleep?’

To which she responded ‘No, but if I get up in the night for a wee, I don’t want to miss out on the steps’

I have created Fitbit monsters………….

Fitbit Alta

Piles of rubbish

So – the aforementioned piles op happened a week ago. There has been an unexpected whizz back to the hospital for an overnight stay for some post op bleeding – but I’m now at home and feeling loads better.

I am, however, using laxatives and lots of fruit and veg to ensure everything keeps ‘moving’ and my internal wounds can heal.

My stomach sounds like there is some kind of chemistry experiment going on in there with loads of fizzing and gurgling,

3

and I fear I may never be able to fart again for the fear of horrific follow through.

fart-zone

#neverknowinglyundershared

The Tooth Fairy – part 2

I’ve blogged before about how even after 15 years of parenting – and 4 kids – the tooth fairy can still be a bit rubbish in the Price household!

tooth_fairy

Well, 2 days ago, child number 4 lost a tooth.  It was duly put under her pillow – and the next morning – was still there.

We had been having some electrical issues with the RCD in the house blowing every couple of hours  – so the husband and I had been up regularly in the night jiggling fuses about (this is not a euphemism!) and so we used that as an excuse – as clearly the tooth fairy couldn’t risk being seen by one of us.

Then yesterday the aforementioned child number 4 won a little pot at her big brother’s school fete.  I suggested that this would be perfect for the tooth to go in under her pillow – and so the tooth fairy could find it easily. This morning the pot was opened excitedly – to find the tooth and no coin inside. Whoops.  I suggested perhaps the tooth fairy couldn’t get the lid off the pretty pot, so maybe it should go under the pillow without the lid on this evening.

Half an hour ago child number 4 came downstairs as a 2nd tooth had come out!  To which I exclaimed ‘the tooth fairy must have known this was going to happen, and so that’s why she hasn’t been!  She can do two trips for the price of one tonight and leave double money.’

That tooth fairy is very clever (if a little forgetful!)

Time capsule briefcase

Last night I sorted out a briefcase to take to fancy London today. These days it’s pretty rare for me to use such a bag – and that was clearly evident when I sorted out the contents of the interior pockets:

  1. Business cards from an office we moved out of over 5 years ago.
  2. Ibuprofen with a use by date of 2011! I’d forgotten just how many I use to pop – before pilates sorted my back out.
  3. Medium sized tampons – this was definitely pre children 3 and 4, super plus all the way since then!!

 

Because of all of the above, I didn’t risk eating the chocolate coins that I also found……………..

 

Briefcase.jpg

Cat stretch – or……..

This evening – as the courgette, cauliflower and chickpea tagine was simmering (I know, I am such a January cliche) – I decided my back would benefit from some movement, so I knelt on the kitchen floor and did a cat stretch – or as the kids call it, happy cat and angry cat.

Cat_Back_Stretches1

The 6 year old walked in and asked ‘Mummy, do you need to trump?’………………………………..

(The chickpeas will sort that out love – never mind the yoga!!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And now a beef with Pink’s lyrics ……

Way back when I first started blogging, I discussed that fact that Ironic by Alanis Morissette was in fact mostly full of annoying rather than ironic things.

Well, I have another issue with song lyrics, which my post op drug addled brain first thought was also with Ms Morissette (due to her having an album called ‘Jagged Little Pill’) – but turns out, it’s actually with Pink and her track ‘Just Like A Pill’!

Turns out morphine doesn’t make me itch – but it does give me really bad constipation.  Although I appreciate that might be harder to lyricise…..

 

morphine

 

 

 

Book Review (and confessional): Mad Girl by Bryony Gordon

Mad Girl

I had seen ‘Mad Girl’ reviewed a number of times – and knew of Bryony Gordon from her newspaper and magazine writing – so wanted to shoe horn this in to my Reading Challenge!

Here’s the Amazon blurb:

“Bryony Gordon has OCD.
It’s the snake in her brain that has told her ever since she was a teenager that her world is about to come crashing down: that her family might die if she doesn’t repeat a phrase 5 times, or that she might have murdered someone and forgotten about it. It’s caused alopecia, bulimia, and drug dependency. And Bryony is sick of it. Keeping silent about her illness has given it a cachet it simply does not deserve, so here she shares her story with trademark wit and dazzling honesty.
A hugely successful columnist for the Telegraph, a bestselling author, and a happily married mother of an adorable daughter, Bryony has managed to laugh and live well while simultaneously grappling with her illness. Now it’s time for her to speak out. Writing with her characteristic warmth and dark humour, Bryony explores her relationship with her OCD and depression as only she can.
Mad Girl is a shocking, funny, unpredictable, heart-wrenching, raw and jaw-droppingly truthful celebration of life with mental illness.”

People often comment about my husband’s OCD – and whilst mostly this is in jest (as he’s a neat freak) I do wonder if it’s quite so innocent, as I know when he’s stressed by external factors (work, family, health) he will bleach toilets and hoover excessively. Bryony’s OCD isn’t neat freak – it’s about imagining she’s done things and forgotten about it, or rituals or phrases she has to repeat to ensure bad things don’t happen.  Now this is something I totally empathise with (although would never have considered it OCD) – doesn’t everyone have to make sure the light switches are facing the right way before they go to bed?  Or check the children at bedtime in ascending or descending age order?  Obviously if the light switches are out of sync or the kids are checked in a random order, something bad will happen over night?  But I’d already been made aware of other people’s experiences with PROPER OCD – counting things being the major one (tiles in a classroom ceiling then turning into number of times they’d swallowed in a day etc)  and knew this could be really debilitating – and Bryony’s OCD definitely falls in to the latter category.

The book charts her experiences and how the OCD has effected life from a child, through teenage years, early 20s and working life.  It is interesting throughout – and really feels like you know what Bryony went through – but it’s done in an amusing and self deprecating way,  It felt like I was in the pub with Bryony having a chat as I read it (although with less booze and illegal drugs than Bryony had when she was in the pub at some points in her life, so at least I could remember it afterwards).

Half way through reading the book,  I was reading my monthly Red Magazine – and came across a letter written by Bryony to ‘lovely Red reader’ – which clearly was written just for me!!  I ended up sobbing reading it on a plane (which slightly freaked out my 5 year old daughter who also commandeered the magazine to read – but preferred the pictures of pretty clothes!)

Red Mag On Plane

Partly it was the spookiness of it (I had weighed myself that morning – and weighed EXACTLY the weight that Bryony had got to when she’d been eating away her pain (although in my case this wasn’t the peak, the peak had been a stone further up a few weeks before)).  I Tweeted Bryony about this and she replied ‘I may be heavy but I am also strong’.  This was JUST what I needed to hear.  I should be proud of my body – it’s borne me 4 beautiful children (admittedly so have Victoria Beckham’s and Heidi Klum’s!) – and heavier people are harder to kidnap and all that?!

Bryony also talked both in the magazine article and in the epilogue of her book about how running has helped her mental health – which was something I was already very familiar with as a friend who is bipolar credits running with keeping himself sane – literally (http://www.runningformylife.uk/).  For me, it’s boxing.  An hour of boxing drills and sparring leaves me energised – and aching – but feeling strong and powerful too.

I think it was clearly meant to be that I read the magazine article whilst reading the book – as motivation to me to stop feeding my issues (literally) and do something about them.  I’m lucky that I don’t have OCD, it hasn’t caused me additional issues, like it did for Bryony – but I need to take care of myself and my own health – not just that of my family, friends, staff etc.

I think the perfect end to this blog post is to quote Bryony directly:

“All I want to do is let you know that if I can do it, anyone can. 
This is how you become more powerful than you could ever imagine,  You become unapologetically you on full beam, turned up to 11, you with the mega wattage,  Like a summer house boarded up for the winter, the sockets turned off, you have always had the power,  Not you just need to go and switch it on.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cankle-tastic!

“cankle
ˈkaŋk(ə)l
noun

informal
plural noun: cankle
 
a woman’s fat or swollen ankle whose flesh merges unattractively with that of the calf.”

 

I am not renowned for my delicate ankles.  It’s a family thing – my two sisters are similarly cursed.  Although only my youngest sister and I were described as ‘kraftig’ at a spa.  This was in Germany and the therapist was German – she didn’t just decide to call us ‘sturdy’ in German as it sounded more onomatopoeic!

Anyway – I digress.

I now have one normal sturdy ankle, and one cankle thanks to a horsefly bite standing in the playground on Wednesday afternoon!  (This is clearly why I normally pay our wonderful nanny to do the school runs, as it’s a dangerous place.) My ankle looks ridiculous and is really sore.

A friend who had a similar injury last week (I didn’t ask if hers was from a playground dwelling horse fly) has suggested I draw round the swollen bit so I can see if it spreads – especially with my recent foray into the world of cellulitis elsewhere on my anatomy – so I will get an eye liner out later (Younique of course, they go on so smoothly) and do just that.

I guess the benefit is that once the swelling has gone down, I will feel quite shapely of ankle…….

 

 

 

Athletics Angst

My eldest daughter is incredibly academic and conscientious.  Her school reports for both attainment and effort are always really high marks – except for one subject – PE.  She is definitely her mother’s daughter in that department – and just as in my 1980s school reports, she doesn’t get the best grades for physical education.  But hey – you can’t be good at everything, right?!

Today was a Year 9 athletics competition against their rival school (co-incidentally the one her younger brother attends!) and she’d been selected to compete in the javelin and shot put.  Interestingly I remember also being allocated the shot put during my school days – and back then, I didn’t resemble a Russian shot putter in stature, that’s been 30 years in the development …..

Her opening gambit as she got into the car after school was ‘Mum, you won’t believe it, I didn’t come last in the javelin or shot put’ – and I was suitably incredulous – this was excellent, if somewhat surprising, news.

She added that she’d thrown the javelin without killing anyone  – which is always a bonus – and out of 8 throws had only had one disallowed (this harks back to her Year 8 sports day, when her Dad and I were both busy at work, and so couldn’t attend to watch her compete in the long jump.  I’d felt the suitable working mother guilt until she confessed her 3 jumps had all resulted in foul jumps – so I hadn’t missed much!!!)

She also now has a sporting nickname – something I could only ever aspire to – although this is based upon her Brummie accent in a school where most people are from Worcestershire not Birmingham – she’s now ‘the chav with the jav’

I’m not sure she’s quite the successor to Jessica Ennis-Hill – but all in all, a great sporting day #shedidntcomelast