Thursday, March 22, 2012
I know I just need to go walk the dog (we don't have a dog, I am referring to myself), but instead I just sit around on my big fat bum, eating cheese and drinking wine. I get on the scales every morning to give myself even more of a reason to wallow and then I go straight to the fridge and eat more crap food. It is such a ridiculous bullshit cycle of self sabotage.
Recently, I lost 12 kilos. I was inching closer to my goal weight. I was so proud of myself. I was feeling fabulous, fit and enjoying my new found love of clothes again. Then it happened. As soon as I started basking in the glory, I started getting lazy. Before I knew it, I'd put on a few kilos. I was grumpy yet still in denial. "I'll lose it next week, " I told myself for two months.
Then I set another empty goal - to lose five kilos by the Digital Parents Blogging Conference in Melbourne. I wanted to get back that wonderful glow that comes with healthy eating and exercise. That glow you get when you slip on your jeans and you think you look good in them. I lost two kilos and then quick smart put back on another five. I am now edging closer to a weight I vowed I'd never get to again. I feel so angry at myself. I feel ashamed at my lack of resolve.
When I walk into the conference next week, I will once again be tugging at my shirt to cover my belly. I'll go to the dinner dance and feel flabby and uncomfortable in my oversized dress and I will be engaged in an internal dialogue of self attack.
Next week I will be standing in a room of accomplished, wonderful women who I regard as my friends, some I've met numerous times, some I've never met face-to-face. We've seen each other's avatars; photos taken from the best angle, then altered with filters. I don't think I look like my photos on Facebook or Twitter - I only put up photos which I think hide my self-loathed bits. I stretch my neck out or tip my face to the side to look skinnier or younger.
I need you to know people out there who I'll meet for the first time, that I am rounder and older than may photos may suggest. And while I was feeling fabulous about attending the event a few months back, when I was looking the best I had in years, now I am not as confident about it all. I will smile and laugh and probably drink too many wines. You might think I'm funny and confident, but in reality I will be embarrassed about my body and will be hiding my insecurities.
You also need to know that my body image issues are a long running problem of mine, but don't define me as a person. It doesn't change me professionally or alter my mothering style. Body image insecurities aside I am a strong, independent woman who will look you in the eye and smile when we meet. Who knows that everyone in that room will have at least one thing they worry about and therefore I know I am not alone - that we are in the same boat.
I suppose what I am trying to say is, remember when you are feeling nervous or shy or worried what others think of you, try not to. Even the most self assured people there are nervous in same way. Be brave and know we are all there to share our experiences and learn from each other. We are bloggers for god's sake - that's what we do. We put our fears and worries and pasts and loves and fears and dreams and insecurities out there for all to read. If there is one room where we should all feel safe and accepted and feee of judgement it should be next week in Melbourne.
Please come and say hi, I'd love to meet you if I haven't already. And when the music starts at the end of the night, kick off your shoes, push aside your barriers and dance. Dance with reckless abandon.
Are you attending the DPCON next week?
Monday, March 19, 2012
All our regular "last minute holiday options" were booked so we chanced it on a holiday home down south in the little coastal town of Normanville. We lucked out. The place was situated within a tidy-town holiday park, which was largely empty. It had a gorgeous resort-style pool, a central park with old gums and tyre swings and a boardwalk winding through the sand dunes to our own private beach. It was perfect.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
I was going to write about how I took a blog post down the other morning. And how self censoring my own feelings, because of pressure from others, really bothered me. And how I ended up deciding to put the post back up again and vowed to always trust my instincts and alway stay true to myself. To always listen to my writer's intuition.
And how if anyone feels like that, that they should always back their convictions and never doubt themselves. How it's vital as a blogger to write about things that niggle at your heart and to always stay authentic. That I see my role as a blogger to write about my own journey, while also helping others, who may be facing similar dilemmas, to know they are not alone in their own truth.
I also wanted to write about how amazing the blogging community is, how supportive they are and all that jazz, BUT the fact I've even had to write about any of that stuff just pisses me off and the whole topic frankly bores me now and I have officially moved on. So, I am not going to write about it.
Instead, I'd much rather talk about melons. You know, boobs. I wanted to write about they come in all different shapes and sizes.
I think whoever put this "guide together" has forgotten a few -
- Lumpy Custard and Leaky Coconuts (when you're breastfeeding).
- Dolly Partons.
- Bee stings.
- Blowing in the Breezes.
- Coke can holders (you just slip them under each boob).
- Arm rests.
- Lopsided ones.
Mine are lopsided. One is smaller than the other one, or if your prefer to look at it in a glass half full way - one is WAY BIGGER than the other one.
What boobs do you have? Are yours lopsided like mine?
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
It was wonderful. I don't know if that feeling will wear off with each excursion and the endless knock knock jokes and I Spy marathons, but I'm hoping it doesn't. To spend time with Miss 5 and her friends was delightfully cute. To spend one-on-one time with just one of my kids was really special.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
First off was a stop to the bakery for cinnamon donuts and a visit to the park.
Then after tackling this mountain of clothes...
But for Miss 5, the promise of fairy lights and waiting up for her Dad to come home from work was too exciting. So, I decided she could stay up and wait. And then...the time came!
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Dear Mother's Group,
It's not you, it's me, but I think it's time we break up. It's been a great five years, but my eldest girl starts school soon and now we've moved it's increasingly difficult for me to make the journey up the hill regularly enough with two other children.
I also feel I am constantly reminded of my distance from you when I see dozens of Facebook updates and Instagram photos of you all hanging out together at events I am no longer invited to. I'm not blameless as I know I can't always make stuff and often the last minute, off-handed invites are tricky for me to arrange.
So, I'll make it easy for everyone and release you from having to feel guilty anymore and tender my resignation immediately. It seems a bit fruitless though, as you've been excluding me for a long time anyway.
I want you to know that individually you are all amazing, loving people who I care for deeply and have been a great support to me, and me to you, but as a group you have unwittingly acted to make me feel very alienated.
No hard feelings, I just think it will be better for me to get some closure so I no longer feel upset. I sincerely hope you have fun at your spa girls weekend and hope to catch up with you in the future as my girls really love catching up with all the kids. And my children's happiness is my number one priority.
Thanks for being there at the toughest times of being a parent. I value our time together.
Good luck with the next journey, Mother's Group.
What was your Mother's Group like? Did it come to a natural end or do you all still meet up?