Meno-what?

A spot! I have a spot!! Several actually. I had a horrible time with acne as I was growing up and I think it's coming back. I suspect that now just as then, changing hormones are to blame. 

Yes, if there is one thing I really hate about heading into the menopause it's the spots - oh and the hot flushes. Honestly yesterday I had a 'personal summer' that had my face glowing like a beacon, it actually hurt. And the sweat, ugh!! I was watching my girls do their gymnastics and I'm sure the other mums must have been wondering what on earth was up.

Yes if there one thing I really hate about heading into the menopause it's the spots and the hot flushes - oh and the mood swings. The mood swings are awful. Not just bad but really f***ing bad! I can go from sweetly talking to the birds while I garden to full on RAGES in less than 60 seconds. Sometimes I go absolutely MAD about the tiniest little thing and goodness help anyone who gets in my way.

Yes if there is one thing I really hate about heading into the menopause it's the spots, the hot flushes, the mood swings. Oh and lets not to mention a change in the old pelvic floor! Things just are not what they were (don't worry I'm not going to go TMI on you but I do intend to talk about this more in another post).

Yes if there is one thing I really hate about heading into the menopause it's the spots, the hot flushes, the mood swings and the pelvic floor issues. Oh and let's not forget the 
um, 
ummmmm, 
ummmmm 

....


I'm sorry, what was I talking about? 
You know if there is one thing I really hate about heading into the menopause it's the short term memory loss. 

Now where were we??




BTW I'm sorry I've been away so long, a badly strained wrist made typing very painful!

International Star Wars Day (Or don't tell the bride!)

Just a quick little bonus blog for you!
As you may know I love my crochet, what you might not know (unless you are my friend on Facebook) is that I am Sci-Fi nuts. So I was really happy over the last couple of weeks to combine the two!

Happy International Star Wars Day, May the Fourth Be With You!

So why the cryptic reality tv reference? Remember how I volunteer for Charnwood BRAS? Well one of the other volunteers was getting married today and the groom is a big Star Wars fan too (it's a mark of how much he loves her that he actually sold some of the collectables to finance the wedding) so instead of my normal Bride and Groom cork-keepers I've done a little Princess Leia and Han Solo.

Finally my girls wanted to show off the other hat too.

Meet Princess Leia and R2D2 

I've roped in the photographer so hopefully these will be used as props in his photo-booth during the wedding!

Oh and all this was nothing compared to the arch of knitted boobs we made them walk under as they left the church but I forgot to get her permission to post that here so you'll have to go and find us on facebook! www.facebook.com/charnwoodbras

My first barefoot walk!

I have been a good girl of late. I've gotten myself a new health challenge and as a start I've been going on a walk every day. Some days it's 30 minutes and some days it's an hour and some days I have to take the kids with me but I do it.

And it's not about burning calories. (Though I really hope it helps). It's not even about raising my heart rate much. It's about making my body do what it should naturally be doing. Our bodies were not made to sit in front of a computer, oh no, they were expertly evolved over millions of years to move skillfully around our environment that we might hunt and gather food. Stopping our bodies from moving plays havoc with them.

So why barefoot walk? Lately I've been really interested in learning about how our bodies are connected and it seems that shoes are not as friendly to our bodies as we thought. Yes they can stop your feet getting covered in dog mess or stepping on a nail but they also stop the proper action of our feet which can in turn stop the proper action of muscles higher up the leg, which in turn can even weaken your pelvic floor!

I did my homework with care. I realised that my feet are not used to being out of shoes so I've been braking them in gently. To start with I got rid of my slippers. Then I minimalised my shoes, less ridged cast with heals, more flat with a big toe box and gripping to my feet (flip-flops or thongs mean you have to grip with your toes and produces a very unnatural style of walking). Then I got chilblains on my toes and realised that thick socks in winter are a must and that the next stage would have to wait until spring!

Biding my time I set to look for places to walk. It's not as easy as you might think, I needed lots of grass to start this experiment, my feet are not hard enough yet to cope with rocks or leaves and concrete or tarmac does tend to lead to blisters as the surface is so unforgiving. I've selected 3 fields in the village all within easy walking distance from my children's school (why not use the school run as a warm up I though) and got some good fitting 'croc' style shoes for the bits on pavement (also if I'm honest I wanted to look 'normal' in the playground).

So today I finally decided it was warm enough to take the plunge. Crocs at the ready I took the girls to school and walked down to the village sports field. I recon one round of the  field is about 500m (there's a cricket pitch and a football pitch and more large areas of grass besides) and I went around 3 times!

What I learnt - 1) dew soaked grass is FREEZING at 9am in the morning! The muddy bits are much warmer. 2) even very nice dig owners can miss the odd poo (and then still put the poo in the wrong bin!!) 3) the funny looks are not too bad, you don't have to keep explaining yourself. I think most people didn't even notice.

And a plus side is that I have had a really nice buzzy feeling in my feet all morning. And if that is all I get then it is still worth it.

Tomorrow I shall try the SSSI (Site of Special Scientific Interest) nature reserve at the back of the village, it's not as big but there may be things bigger than dog poo to avoid!! 

Loss

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

Max Ehrmann, "Desiderata"

 

Today I went to the memorial service for a friends grown-up son. It was a moving service so different to many others I have been to. It took place in a Quaker Meeting House and in Quaker tradition it did not have the clear structure I have come to expect from my upbringing in the Church of England. Many friends contributed their own warm memories of him which for me as someone who had met him on a mere handful of occasions clearly illustrated the sort of man he was. 

There were few overt prayers as such but there was a great deal of time for reflection and contemplation.  As an atheist I didn't have to sit there and ask why this young man was taken, I know there is no grand plan, "shit" as they say "just happens" and I actually take great comfort in that.


Sad as it is, he died. There is no reason, just friends and family whose lives were richer for his presence and whose hearts are torn at his loss.

I understand that not everyone in that room would have felt the same way and and I hope their faith can help and comfort them in their loss. It was an honour to sit in the silence with them.

My body

Billy Bragg, 'Sexuality' - 

"I'm sure that everybody knows how much my body hates me,

It lets me down most every time and makes me rash and hasty."

Sometimes it honestly feels like my body is out to get me. What with the food allergies, the headaches, the migraines, the SPD during both my pregnancies and the infertility prior to that, it's not hard to feel that body and I are not really the best of friends. I try to feed it well, I exercise (well some of the time I do) and I watch my weight and yet.....
....and yet I rarely if ever feel happy with it. Sometime I even hate it (and the fact it is only 'sometimes' now is actually an improvement). I stand in front of the mirror and I see an ageing, plump, saggy body that doesn't look like the 'me' I feel inside. I fight to make it finish an exercise workout, I knock back pints of water to try and stop it reaching for a piece of chocolate and I curse it when I have to stop and clench to cough. I know a good body, like a good car needs looking after but I wish it didn't feel like we were at war with each other.

To be fair I've not had the best role models. Today magazines are full of celebrities who have 'already lost their baby weight', like baby weight is something to be ashamed of and that we should all be able to do it (even if we can't afford the personal trainer, nanny and chef that they used). They airbrush pictures to such an extent some celebs would be barely recognisable in 'real life'. (Look here) The media has never been a friend to a positive body image. But they are not the only ones to blame.

Take an earlier role model for girls, Barbie for example, if we assume that as a 'real' woman she'd be about 5foot 9 inches then her chest would be 39 inches, her waist 18 inches and her hips 33 inches. Her weight would be about 7 stone 12lbs which gives a BMI of 16.24 (which is so underweight we'd call her anorexic). Because her neck is so long she wouldn't be able to hold her head up and because her feet are so small (a size 3) she'd probably not be able to walk or even stand without help. And the makers Matel apparently consider this to be a fuller figure. Frankly it scares me that I still think she is beautiful and it terrifies me that my children might too.

And my earliest role model, my Mummy? I look back at photos of her at the age I am now and I see a beautiful lady, a lean, fit, healthy body, great skin, great legs, lovely hair but what I remember is her standing in front of a mirror picking herself apart, at the time I don't think she liked her own body either.

Really want my girls to have a positive body image. I wish I'd banned the Disney dolls which are really little different to Barbie before they started creeping into our home and I also wish they'd never seen the Winx club (cartoon girls so disproportioned they make Barbie look tame) but they are here now. So what can I do? I try to be as positive about my own body as I can be. When they point at my stretch marks I tell them they are tiger stripes and how much I love them because they were a gift. I try never to talk about dieting, just sensible eating. I tell them how interesting it is to watch our bodies change as we get older.

And I hope, I really hope that in talking to them more positively it wont just be them that feels good about their own body, I hope that I'll start to feel better about it too.

Forget Judy Garland, I'll listen to Frank Turner

I was all set to to write a blog post about my political views explaining where I stood on the political spectrum and then an old lady had to go and ruin my train of thought by dying.

She ruined so much of my youth, with her big hair, capped teeth and right-wing policies. She started off pinching my school milk and went on to much, much worse. Yes, that's right, I'm talking about Margret Thatcher. Even if you don't know exactly where I stand politically I don't think it will surprise you if I say that I wasn't a fan.

I can remember the day she became Prime Minster, I'd not quite turned 8 but I'd never seen my Dad look so sad, I knew Labour had lost just by the look on his face. Yes you could say my family indoctrinated me into socialism but they also had me Christened and I shook that off. I'm proud to be a lefty. I'm proud that when it comes to my country and indeed the world, I want to see a fairer, more equal society and in that I felt she was diametrically opposed to me.

She became for me, a personification of everything I hated about the political right, I danced with joy the day she was forced out of Number 10 (and got completely hammered, I was a University student at the time) so I expected to feel a similar sense of elation when she died. I didn't.


I can understand that a large number of people wanted to run around singing "Ding dong the witch is dead" from the Wizard of Oz - there is actually a Facebook group with the soul aim of getting it to number 1 by the end of the week (at the time of writing it is at number 10 in the down load charts - how ironic!) I admit to singing the odd chorus in the last 48hours but to be honest my heart isn't in it.  

In the first place this is because my fight isn't over. The current government are forcing through the sorts of cuts and changes the 'Iron Lady' could only have dreamed of. I will not stand by while the weakest and most vulnerable in our society have what little they have taken away from them and I will not be quiet while they break up and sell off the NHS. Yes we live in difficult economic times but make no mistake, these changes are political and ideological and not the necessity they are painted to be, there are alternatives. 

And in the second place, at the end she was a sad, frail woman suffering from dementia when she died, her 'prime' (if you can call it that) a distant memory. I do feel a sense of sorrow for her children that they have lost their mother though I always felt rather sorry for them having her as a parent in the first place however I don't feel any more need to be 'respectful' than I did at say Pinochet's death. Mostly I just feel flat. One right-winger may have gone but it reminds me that the fight to put society back in the place I feel it belongs continues.

No, if I'm going to download any particular song this week it will be this number by Frank Turner. It explains very clearly how I feel while still somehow managing to sound a little happy. (I'll just warn you now it is unsuitable for young children or the work place as it contains plenty of adult language from the start.)

Take it away Frank.

Lyrics, for those who have small ears nearby. 

Thatcher F*cked the kids - Frank Turner

Whatever happened to childhood?
We're all scared of the kids in our neighborhood;
They're not small, charming and harmless,
They're a violent bunch of bastard little shits.
And anyone who looks younger than me
Makes me check for my wallet, my phone and my keys,
And I'm tired of being tired out
Always being on the lookout for thieving gits.

We're all wondering how we ended up so scared;
We spent ten long years teaching our kids not to care
And that "there's no such thing as society" anyway,
And all the rich folks act surprised
When all sense of community dies,
But you just closed your eyes to the other side
Of all the things that she did.
Thatcher fucked the kids

And it seems a little bit rich to me,
The way the rich only ever talk of charity
In times like the seventies, the broken down economy
Meant even the upper tier was needing some help.
But as soon as things look brighter,
Yeah the grin gets wider and the grip gets tighter,
And for every teenage tracksuit mugger
There's a guy in a suit who wouldn't lift a finger for anybody else.

You've got a generation raised on the welfare state,
Enjoyed all its benefits and did just great,
But as soon as they were settled as the richest of the rich,
They kicked away the ladder, told the rest of us that life's a bitch.
And it's no surprise that all the fuck-ups
Didn't show up until the kids had grown up.
But when no one ever smiles or ever helps a stranger,
Is it any fucking wonder our society's in danger of collapse?

So all the kids are bastards,
But don't blame them, yeah, they learn by example.
Blame the folks who sold the future for the highest bid:
That's right, Thatcher fucked the kids.

Now why didn't they let him sing that at the Olympics?

So much to do (so little time)

I've neglected this blog a little the last two weeks, I'm sorry. I can't even give you sick note from my mum. I've been a little busy working for the BIG community (without pay) in other words volunteering. Let me fill you in on a little bit of what I do......

My biggest volunteering commitment currently is the Charnwood BRAS (you can find us here and here) I'm a Breastfeeding Peer Supporter. This means that sometimes I sit in Sure Start Children's Centres working with a Health Visitor or Nursery Nurse (and I do work with two really super ones) to support new mums in their breastfeeding journey. Sometimes I zip off to someones house for a morning or afternoon to get them through a critical point and help them keep going. I also deliver workshops, we have antenatal sessions but mostly I lead the 'Returning to Work or Study' seminar. However MOST of my volunteering with the BRAS isn't that glamorous, it's running the Facebook page (not just on my own), baking cakes, writing new leaflets, press releases, case studies and the all important paperwork to prove that I'm worth the money they don't pay me.

I'm currently in the middle of 'Nearly New Sale' season with the NCT. I volunteer (and sell) at both the Loughborough and Leicester sales which are both close to being the biggest sales of their kind in the UK. Theoretically this is only 6 days 'work' a year but even without getting my own stuff ready for sale it mushrooms out of all proportion, what with printing signage and stuff. This particular volunteering is the closest I get to paid work these days as not only do I sell stuff but the volunteers pre-sale 'thank you' enables me to kit out the kids without it costing a fortune - I swear I have never paid more that £3 for a winter coat for example. If you have small kids and you are not involved in your local NCT sale I suggest you find out more about it now.

You may have spotted that I'm hooked on crochet. I owe a huge thanks to my lovely friend and 'oh-my-god-mother' to my kids for teaching me how to do it just 18months ago, since then it has become an obsession. I have made plenty of items for the school PTA (for whom I also do other volunteering) which we sell at seasonal fairs but I have particularly enjoyed making a small contribution to the work of the KGB. This is not (in case you were worried) the security arm of the Soviet Union but an 'arts' group - the Knitting Guerillas of Birstall. They yarn bomb the local area generally brightening up the place and making it a cosier place to live. I like it because I love modern art (even if this is a very middle class version), I think it challenges what society think of knitting and crochet and come to that, volunteering (I give my time, skill and wool for free) and because it makes me smile.

I'm also involved with La Leche League where I'm just starting training to be a group leader and a couple of 'Fertility' based groups and of course I don't just write this blog I also have my food blog The Trials of the Inclusive Cook, but the last organisation that I really want to tell you about is one that it feels like doesn't take any of my time at the moment, The Leicester Masaya Link Group. The LMLG is a non-governmental organisation and charity which manages the town-twinning link between Leicester and Masaya in Nicaragua. Official twinning was established in 1987 and since then, the LMLG has worked to develop and maintain an exchange of contacts between the two cities by co-ordinating projects aimed at enriching life in both cities. Before my girls were born I did a lot of voluntary work there but my main role now is supporting the Chair of the organisation, he's my husband. It turns out we can't both go to evening committee meetings because someone has to stay at home with the girls (and daytime office work isn't an option with a baby in tow) but I am VERY proud of the work he and our 'paid worker' do (it's in inverted commas because I know she gives far more of herself than what we pay for) and it is a pleasure to attend weekend events and fundraisers. 

Why do I do so much volunteering? Because it's rewarding, it makes me feel worthwhile and that helps keep my mental health a float in so many different ways and if you don't believe me read what the mental health charity Mind say here.  Yes it takes a lot of my time but here's the thing, without wishing to sound big headed

I make a difference.