I am blogging from work and I think that today I won't even justify it.
Okay, I will justify it because that reduces the guilt factor.
Actually no, I won't justify it. I don't feel guilty about doing a post at work but I do feel guilty about not feeling guilty.
I have slipped into a bad sleep routine lately. I don't know how it happened but suddenly I have found myself going to bed later and then not sleeping well. This morning was particularly challenging to leave the seductive warmth of my bed. Then when I was about to head off to work I decided that the clothes I wore annoyed me so I had to change. That is never a good sign for the day ahead. But at least it was only one costume change. There have been many mornings where I have six of them and leave my clothes all higgeldy piggeldy on the bed.
This week is busy and it won't be until Sunday morning that I can sleep in.
On Friday my son starts school for the year. How he will cope getting back into the real world I will never know. He has had the most sloth like six weeks of holiday. I think he wore his pyjamas most days. He lost weight initially because he did not eat much. I am sure it is because he is too lazy to get up and get food. But he has gained a bit now after we made efforts to leave food out for him in a place that required not too much effort to get to. I would ring K during the day and ask if he had fed S. A few times a lunch box was packed for him and place near the computer.
Yesterday I sent him a note asking if he had eaten yet. This was after lunch. He replied that he had eaten breakfast and that the thing he had eaten was a
Magnum ice-cream. Then, for my benefit, he had a yoghurt. At least I know he is getting his dairy requirements.
This Saturday we are doing another training walk. Not as long as the last one but still up plenty of hills. This time my dear husband is dropping us off and picking us up. Otherwise we will have to do a return walk back and then we are not ready to do a 56km walk yet. That will happen later.
This morning as I plonked up the 17 stairs to get into the office at work I wondered how on earth I will ever be able to walk 100 kms. It is funny that. Some days the body feels ancient and I think I must be the most unfit slug around. But it rises to the challenge and does not let me down.
A few people have asked what it is like to do the walk the second time around. Is the thought process different? I think it is. Plus I am in a different space in my head so the approach is different. We just do it. Once committed the mind wants to focus and the body has to come with. Personally I would rather walk 100kms than run 10kms. One of the girls with us has done a couple of half marathons and thinks that the walking is much harder. Some people are runners and others are walkers. I am a walker.
In fact, I have decided to keep any running to a minimum. I am happy to stay fit enough to run 5kms but that is it. I read that Liz Hurley never runs as it makes one saggy. Plus I did read that a leading cosmetic surgeon said that running adds to the ageing process. I presume he meant the external process. All that pounding the pavement must shake things down.
Plus there is the whole pelvic floor thing. I don't have issues with that but why tempt fate! Last thing I want is to be wetting my pants while running down the street.
It's not just that. Since reducing my running to all but a little jog now and then, I have had minimal back and joint pain. In general the aches and pains have all but gone. Walking and weight training is my thing and I am happy with that.
Tonight I have book club. The group has increased in size. I am the oldest. The only one with a tattoo. The only one with an only child. The only one with a teenage child. The only one who works full time. I need to stop swearing so much when I go there. Not that I swear lots but when you are around those who don't use the F word it is duly noted when someone does. By that I mean that there is a slight silence. I do like to be considerate now and then. I do like the girls but they do talk a LOT about their children. Lots and lots and lots. How they manage to carry the burden of having such perfect children intrigues me.
I love how they all say that when their kids get to teenage years they won't let them wear certain clothes (girls). Or they won't let them on the computer or Xbox (boys). Or they will make them play outside. I think they have a rule book that gets handed out to some parents. The "How to be a Perfect Parent" book of rules. Rules, rules and more rules. My book has a few rules. Keep lines of communication open is one. Set good examples is the another. I think I may have had a modified book of perfect parenting rules when my son was younger but has long been disposed of.
I hate the word "rules". It suggests a lack of personal freedom of choice. I am not talking about the rules of school, society and work. They are a given and you need to follow guidelines and have standards to meet. I get all that. But when it comes to young people I like to think of the concept of conditions, consequences, ethics, boundaries and things that require a person to think about what they are doing. I know that seems airy fairy and I think it is a reaction to my own very rule driven upbringing but it seems to work.
Anyway, each child is different and I suppose some need strict guidelines and rules and others work well with a flexible approach. It's not like they are made of putty and you can get one and just squeeze it into some shape. When I see the differences between my husband and his sister I can see how important it is to approach each child differently and sometimes, no matter how good the parenting, some kids will be harder work than others.
Hence the reason for being flexible with those predetermined rules.
Anyway, enough of that. There is no answer, no rules. You just do your best and that is it.
The other week my son had to get new school pants. His ankles were almost showing in the old ones and there was no option to take the hem down. I have to now take up his new trousers. I wish I could do a blind stitch. I was shown when I was about 14 years old but that is now a lost skill. The option to get it done at the dressmakers was there but I have left the run too late and now will be doing it on Thursday night. I shall have to make sure I am extra neat and tidy and use the correct coloured thread.
I have so many sewing projects to finish off. A couple of skirts. Some crafty thing I bought last year. I have patterns that I have bought with the intention of making my own clothes. Simple patterns. Then I spend ages trying to find material I like online. I have bought some and still it waits for my attention. This year I hope to organise myself a bit better and do more of these enjoyable things. Hmmm, don't I say that every year? If I were to read through my blog over the past six years I am sure I have uttered those words time and time again.
I just realised that today is six years of blogging. Six years. That is just incredible. I feel I am a different person in a way when I think back to the first post I did. Different in a good way. More grown up and aware. Life is so liquid when I think about it. Just a Lava Lamp at work, moving around and you can only grab bits of it as it revolves around you. You think you contain it but it just shifts around and beneath you. Will I keep blogging? I expect so. Sometimes I don't feel like it but I just see that as a phase.
At the moment I am slowly saving posts into a Word programme. A laborious task in itself. I would hate to lose this blog as there is a lot of my life that I would have forgotten about in it. Conversations recorded. Days out noted. Things that are small and random at the time but fantastic to read about later. I doubt I would have been so consistent had I hand written it all. It is easier for me to type up what is on my mind and things flow a bit better.
Next week is the second last stage of things being finished at home. The kitchen/family room floor is getting repolished. After 20 years of being walked across it is going to be refreshed. However, we have to live at the front of the house all week while it is being done. So, no access to my kitchen. No access to the laundry and no access to the office. We have to share MY bathroom (vomit) and go out the front door and down the drive way to get the the back verandah if we want to get food out of the fridge. I think eating out is going to be back on the cards. I will have to sit on my bed to watch television, something I rather like the thought of actually.
So this weekend we will squeeze all the furniture into a couple of rooms. The couch has to go outside on the back verandah and covered up. Get all the washing and ironing done. Remember to put the kettle outside so that we can have cups of tea. At least I can go out to the studio and potter around when it gets a bit crowded.
Once the floor is polished we can move all the furniture back where it should be. Unpack boxes of books and put them back on the shelves. Get the house back to normal. Finish off the last few cosmetic things and that is it for the next 25 years!
Oh, look. What a long post. However I have been working in between it all and have actually achieved a lot more than I thought I would.
I should sign off now and stop blathering.
Ciao
LC
