Full blown blockbusters with their own soundtrack. I honestly wish I could record them, because Hollywood production houses would seriously pay big money for some of the stuff conjured up by my subconscious, though I have neither the literary capacity nor the will to write the screenplays myself, nor the requisite desire to go to asset based lenders in order to be able to afford a ghost writer.

I also do a lot of lucid dreaming (being aware that you’re dreaming, and manipulating situations accordingly, by giving yourself super powers – my most recent one, I was standing in front of a mirror in my underwear and literally, going, okay, stomach…more toned…boobs…a perkier…bigger, okay now ass, your turn, SHRINK, right before getting into awesome clothes that I’d magicked into my cupboard and heading out for a night of partying).

But, then there are the dreams that I have when I am not self aware, but they are so SO effortlessly real. I luxuriate in the clarity of them.

I wake up in the morning with a naughty grin on my face, my back and arms still warm from how he held me, standing behind me, the spot slightly below and behind my ear where his lips just were is still tingly, parts of my body that I’m not even going to talk about (did I just mention them?) still feeling like they’re in the dream.

The grin abruptly slides off my face as I surface into reality, and thankfully I have the grace to blush as here and now rushes into my face when the cold air hits it and I throw the duvet back in horror.

Holy. Moly.

Did I really just have to have *that* dream, about *this* person!?

Did I really just do that?

What did I have to go and do that for!?

Come on!

With *him* ?

What the heck is up with my head creating that scenario about this person, that I have never considered in that way?

Well okay, at least once or twice, but still, COME ON!

It’s made me all girly, and giggly and stupid today.

Wondering if he’ll call, send a text message or email.

Then I chastise myself for acting like a teenager and say FOR GOODNESS SAKE outloud and go and make a cup of tea, and walk off to the kitchen shaking my head at the traitorous bastard that is my own mind.

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Looking forward to a great week, healthy family, great exercise, amazing work and happy times!

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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Most of the time it’s rather one-sided seeing as my husband has been working ridiculous hours coming home long after the kids are in bed.  I do know for sure that he is working, I have no doubts on that score, fidelity is not even remotely being called into question here.

The battle lines are being drawn about ‘stuff around the house’. Hubby feels like he has carte blanche to work the hours he needs to (without discussing it with me) because he’s the major breadwinner (at the moment). I get this completely, and I am 100 % supportive. The only time I whine about stuff, is when he says “I’m on my way home now” and then spends another 2 hours at the office finishing off a document etc. My expectations are being raised and then disappointed – hence the whining. If he tells me, “this week is going to be tough” then I am prepared for it.

He gets to go to his very stressful corporate job, after dropping one of the kiddos at school, and then shut out the rest of his life completely and get on with his job. I’m pretty sure there are some other WAHMs out there who will agree with me, that this sounds like a freakin’ luxury to me. Now I know that stress isn’t luxurious by any means, and I’m sure that the hubby has his fair share of stress, and interruptions and what not, but still, he doesn’t have to spend even 0.00023 nano seconds worrying about managing his time, so that he can:

• remember to shop for the birthday present for Child A’s party this weekend (and remember wrapping paper and extra sellotape)
• know the exact contents of the fridge and how long these items will keep the family fed, and which meals are going to be prepared and when
• do the dishes, and remember to ring the dishwasher repair guy to hurry up on the quote to fix the damn dishwasher
• remember to go to the pharmacy because the brilliant saline nosedrops for the kids ran out last night and it’s flu season. (the drops keeps the runny noses from developing into month long chesty coughs)
• do the laundry, in between running errands to the grocery store, the school run, the extra murals, and oh yes, BUILD A CAREER

I feel, largely, at the moment, that because I’m doing the evening routine with the kids SOLO 99.9% of the time, that he should be helpful in the morning, by making the kids lunches, getting them dressed (they’re very cooperative – it’s not difficult), yet I still get up sometimes 90 minutes earlier than him, TO WORK.

Then I wake him with freshly brewed coffee. However, he then expects ME to help him with the kids and says “You’re just sitting at your computer, can’t you help me or something?” – in an irritated tone. Which makes me want to LOSE-MY-FREAKIN’-SHIT.

I am so, so SO sick and tired of being swept aside as unimportant, to be made to feel that my needs are somehow less pressing than his. That his job should rule all our lives and that we are at the constant mercy of his schedule, and that he doesn’t compensate for this by either getting up a bit earlier to lessen the stress on everyone. As it is, he comes home and is usually in bed a good 1-2 hours before me too. Shame. So stressed out. Poor poor hubby. I’m sorry for the sarcastic tone here, because damnit, I *don’t* know the stress of dealing with billion dollar deals and the volatility of the international marketplace and yadda yadda. But I DO know the stress of trying to keep four lives running smoothly, singlehandedly, all whilst trying to find the time to build my own career, see to my own clients, and have some kind of life for myself. I do not want to be someone who is completely taken care of financially, I *want* to earn my own money, because I don’t like anyone trying to tell me what to do with MY money.  I do think that on the whole women are starting to realise that dependence on a guy is a very precarious thing, and this is why we see so many women starting their own businesses and doin’ it for themselves. (wiggles hips and sings song by Destiny’s Child)…all the momma’s who earn the dollars, show your hands up at me, all the hunnies makin’ money, show your hands up at me.

Anyway, so this morning we had a rather large argument, about who does more. I hate arguing. Like really. Especially when it gets so heated. Incidentally, I refuse to argue in front of my kids, as in I will completely ignore the other guilty party and shut my ears if they dare and try to continue arguing in front of the kids and I will only engage the kids in conversation, and goof around with them, until they are busy in another room absorbed in another activity. I realise that no arguing is ever healthy, but I do try to minimize the impact on the kids.  As long as they see us apologizing to one another later, I actually think that it can be a a good thing. i.e. an argument doesn’t have to mean it’s the end of everything, everytime.

What I also hate is when one party doesn’t play fair. When I argue, I don’t raise my voice, I go for the logical debate, and of course, the other party being male and not half as mature as me, goes for the low road, the name-calling, the raised voice and frankly, the ‘dredging up the past’ routine, that makes me SO unbelievably tired.

So, we had a big argument this morning. It was the same old same old. He wanted help with the kids, and I wanted to take a bath and get ready after having gotten up at 5am to work till 6h30 (after having done the evening routine alone last night again), then woken him with coffee at 6h30 at which point he was huffing and puffing and asking for help with the kids, and saying that I was being unfair and slacking off as a mother…and after all he was so tired and stressed and well you know the rest.

So we parted on rather silent terms.

Then about an hour later, after having had my breathing space, as usual, I began to see the bigger picture, something that I despair of him ever getting sight of, and I decided that I was going to do something nice for him. Nothing like fighting fire with water eh?

So, I went and bought one of those stainless steel travel mugs, made soup at home and filled it. Made hot buttered toast cut into strips and wrapped in foil to keep warm. I also added a tupperware with two sections, filled one half with croutons, and the other with a dollop of sour cream. I added a plastic spoon, some paper napkins, packed the whole lot in a thermal bag to keep it warm and went and delivered it to his work. I just dropped it at reception, asked them to tell him it was there, and left.

Call me a sucker, call me weak, call me stupid for letting him be ‘rewarded’ for bad behaviour. I call it the fucking high road.

Plus, my phone has been ringing off the hook for the last hour, and gosh would you look at that, I’m too busy to answer.

_______

Updated to add: He got home *BEFORE* me, at 16h30 on a Friday afternoon, and he’d brought fish and chips!! Yay! We have at least achieved detente!

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I say “secretly” because if it becomes family knowledge that the Wii has been resurrected, then everyone else will want a turn, and then at 5am one morning I will be stumbling wearily out of bed, and faced with a blinking ‘battery low’ message, and no, that will not sit so well with me.

So as soon as the school run was complete this morning (more perks of private schooling, the kids went back a week early), I came home and installed the new batteries into the Wii Fit , and the one remote, and had an awesome 40 minute stepping workout (on free-step, with the tv on another channel), then I played about 10 minutes of balance games and called it a day.

I’ve also started grazing like a horse.

Lots of raw, and fresh items are now going into the diet. Cherry tomatoes, mange-tout, baby marrow, capsicum, a couple of almonds, and several slivers of sweet melon.  Husband was more than a little amused by the spread that greeted him for supper last night.

But since we agreed to save the ‘heavy’ meals for lunch time, give the kids something different for supper (they get spaghetti bolognese, or chicken/rice/vegetables etc) he just had to like it.

So this allows the hubby to enjoy the ‘meal of the day’ at the office canteen, and his company really go all out, so it’s not exactly a hardship.

So now he can enjoy the likes of curry, lasagna, shepherds pie and the like, absolutely guilt free, and it kind of absolves me of having to produce a big heavy meal right before *crazy* hour.

Instead I’m cooking whatever the kids are having when I have a moment during the day and so far it’s working out okay. I love just nibbling at stuff at the end of the day, instead of having some heavy carbo-laden fest that my husband loves to eat, and since I’m mostly grazing for lunch as well, I can’t help but think that this is a very good thing. I’m sure that this will be harder to maintain as we head into winter, when yummy stews and big pasta dishes are the big cravings around here, but I’m going to keep trying for as long as possible.

While I hate the situation that my thyroid puts me in, by basically having zero metabolism so I have to work 10x harder to lose weight, I am very grateful that I don’t have any other physical issues, like high cholesterol or anything else requiring the best cholesterol medications around etc. I’m also lucky that my gestational diabetes didn’t develop again, with my second pregnancy. So lots of silver linings here.

I had another great experience yesterday, a nice reward for all my hard work, when I went to the hair dresser yesterday to get my roots done, and she was all like, “Wow! Are you wearing contacts today? Your eyes look SO blue! What are you doing with your skin? It’s like you’re glowing!” said my hairdresser, and yes I know they’re supposed to make you feel like a million bucks when you walk in the door, but since I wasn’t  wearing even a stitch of make-up, I kind of figured well maybe I am starting to look a lot better, even if the ultimate judge of my exercise (the scale) is stubbornly refusing to reward my gargantuan and most determined efforts.

On another note, a quick Happy 46th Birthday to this person:

Can you believe it? He really doesn’t look a day over absolutely gorgeous doesn’t he?

Did you know that he was 37-ish when he took on the role of Gladiator? Of course I don’t know exactly when they shot it in relation to his birthday which is why I say ‘ish’.

This is a fact which I love to point out to my husband, since he is just shy of his 38th birthday in July.

Now I just need to get him to work on delivering lines in that gravelly, tummy-butterfly inducing voice…

Happy Birthday Russell! I can’t wait to see Robin Hood.

Just one year younger than my hubby is Eric Dane (aka. McsSteamy) another fact that I love to point out.

Although I’m going to have to watch it. Because the last thing I want is my hubby beginning to make unfair (although suprisingly accurate…*snort*) comparisons between me, and say, Megan Fox for example.

Come to think of it, I think I’ll get on the bike today anyway.

I have at least an hour to kill before I need to start cooking the kids dinner, and then finish up an illustration that I’ve been working on.

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I managed to do the whole workout at an intensity level, one click higher than last time, which I’m really pleased about. I’m going to stick to the 40mins for the next few days and see how I go on the intensity level thing. One thing I do know is that in order to lose weight, I need to keep my heart rate under control and set into a medium zone, which thusfar I have done.

After my workout, I stupidly went and stood on the scale.

After a week of busting my gut I have lost a grand total of 500g (about a pound).

But you know what? That’s okay. I know that with my thyroid issues, things are going to take twice as long, and the important thing is that I *feel* as good as I do.

So I took a bath (I could really use a jacuzzi at home to ease the old muscles, with a selection of funky hot tub covers to suit my mood) and got dressed for the day, and then set about getting my littlest one ready for school. He still goes during the holidays, but on reduced hours, besides at the grand old age of nearly 2 (tomorrow!), his school day consists of singing and dancing and all sorts of other awesome toddler pursuits, which I can’t bear to deprive him of just because it’s school holidays

After awhile of shuffling about in the kitchen packing lunch, and drinks and a spare set of clothes for him, I kept getting irritated by my trouser legs which were getting caught under my heels.

What the hell?

Now I’m getting shorter!? Yeah. Great stuff! Now I have pregnancy to thank for giant feet, saggy bits, stretch marks, wrinkles, grey hairs and NOW I’m getting SHORTER TOO!?

Just when I was about to run screaming from the building, it dawned on me…

I’m not getting any shorter.

But my ass *is* getting smaller

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Up at 5am again this morning, and for the first time in five days I didn’t exercise. I just dove straight back into trying to resolve some issues around a website that I’ve been setting up. They’re small issues, and I will resolve them, but I just wanted to get stuck in right away and get it done.

I feel *awful*.

Not because I’m tired, but because I didn’t get my fix this morning. My exercise fix. My kick. My habit.  My me-ness that I’ve recently rediscovered.

It also doesn’t help that we are out of coffee

I am going to finish up work for the day and then go and cycle my guts out.

After yesterday’s session, I  was so pumped and had worked so hard, that for the first time in yonks I was aware of lactic acid kicking in, and stiffening up my muscles, that I did a proper stretching cool down session after my ride, to help break it up.  I also went and bought Slow Mag (huh funny our packaging is totally different to this yank version), which I used to take years ago, to prevent muscle cramps. That’s the one thing that I’ve really struggled with since I had hyperthyroidism (and then hypOthyroidism subsequently), when all my muscles atrophied and each time I struggled to keep exercising.

There will be no such excuses this time around.

I am not going to beat myself over this mornings slip, I am only human after all.

For now.

Ha ha ha ha.

Peeps, it’s important to remember that it is still me blogging here. I know I used to blog about the joys of apathy, lethargy, chocolate, red wine and general slothfulness, and yes, these things will still feature from time to time, but I think that a personal transformation (or rather, RE-transformation) would be more interesting to read about wouldn’t it?

My theme song is still  New Divide by Linkin Park, but at the moment I also can’t stop listening to Adiemus because it so unabashedly joyful. It also reminds me a bit of Avatar, don’t you think so?

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Up at 5am. Without fail. Stagger through to the exercise bike plug in my ‘phones and get my body moving. Pj’s and all. No excuses. Luckily I have more pj’s than workout clothes so this works out well in my favour in the morning!

That is me right now.

It is what is keeping me alive right now. Deep lungfuls of fresh air. Using parts of my lungs that haven’t seen enough O2 in a decade.

I realise that a lot of you probably find this as boring as all hell, but it’s a large part of my personal journey so since this is my blog and all… ha ha, yes, it’s going to be about this stuff for a while.

I figure that it’s probably going to take me 2 years to get completely back into shape. I have a very long road ahead of me, but I am so deeply excited to be setting out. One of the reasons that I know it’s for real, is that I am less concerned about making sure I have everything else ready, and rather, focusing on the exercise instead.

In the past I would think to myself, “Mmmm. Yes, I want to start exercising again, but first, I need an iPod. Then I will need new running shoes. Then I’m going to need workout clothes.” Then you know what happens?

Nothing.

I don’t get any of those things, so I don’t start exercising. I was making it about all of *those things* instead of about the exercise.

As I said in my last post though, music has made ALL the difference, so I am grateful that my blackberry has a 2gig capacity, which allows me to store way more than enough music to plug into my ears and work out with. I also did go out and buy new trainers for when I eventually get to the gym or out to do some road work.  As for the workout clothes, they can wait until I join the gym. I have a couple of pieces that will do to start off with. n Boer maak n fokken plan y’all.

I am well on my way to becoming an endorphin junkie again.  I am becoming addicted to the happy buzz that hits me during my workout and lasts for hours afterwards.

Mummies, I am Sleeping Frickin’ Beauty awake, after 100 years.

Sci fi peeps, I am Han Solo emerging from his carbonite prison.

If anyone makes a smart arse comment about Jabba The Hut I will have to kill you.

I am listening to music again, that I haven’t listened to in awhile, aside from all the gung-ho ass-shaking stuff.

Like this awesome stuff.. The stuff that makes me feel like I am standing on a mountain top, with my arms raised in victory, face turned skyward, and living in the moment.

Stuff that I used to *love* and gawd only knows why I stopped listening to it?

Hello self. It’s *so* good to see you again. ((hug))

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Image Courtesy of 'athomeinscottsdale' from flickr creative commons

Right now I warm up using this song: Just Say Yes by Snow Patrol

It’s slower than most workout songs, but it’s a great way to warm up and has a nice steady beat for an exercise bike.

Then when I’m ready to put the steak on the barbeque, this is next Spybreak

Again, it’s a slightly faster, but steady beat to get my heart rate up. Plus it helps to visualise doing Matrix-ey type moves in cool shades at this point.

Then it depends much on how my phone decides to shuffle the songs from this point onwards because I’m just focused, mind firmly in my third eye (eyes closed, eyes focused on the inside of my forehead – it’s an old concentration ‘shut everything else out’ technique we used to use when competing), and any of the following songs come up.

Juke-Joint Jezebel

and
Bring Me To Life
and
Missing (Todd Terry Club Mix)
and
Jump by Madonna
and
INXS: New Sensation
and
Jump [Feat. Nelly Furtado]

and
If Today Was Your Last Day – by Nickelback

I have a bunch more, which I’ll post another time, but all of these will give you a nice motivated 30-35min workout.

Right now, this particular song is my theme song.

New Divide by Linkin Park

It brings back the feeling of all of the power, the feel of the blood bubbling through my veins, rushing faster and faster, coiling up, building up the pressure, until I’m just about ready to explode!

After we’ve moved house, I’m going to join the gym down the road.

Because.

Because this chick needs to pump some iron again. (and please don’t insult me by thinking that by saying this, I mean the circuit).

I got your circuit *right* here.

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My motivation that is.

Wow.

I can hardly believe it myself.

I know that singing with victory after just two workouts (after what, a decade and bit of total exercise avoidance) is probably a bit premature, but I can tell you a few things about why it feels different.

Because, well, it feels different. Very, very different to any exercise I’ve done in years.

I have found that headspace that I used to live in, back when I took my sports training very seriously.

For some reason, I have that openness of mind, and clarity of focus and determination beyond reason that used to come with the sport that I used to do, *way back then*.

It is like a switch has been flicked in my brain, and I’m almost scared to admit it, is that this morning when I increased my workout by 5 mins and did a third more mileage than yesterday, it was e.a.s.y.

I have found the part of me that can push me. The part of me that looks at me in the mirror and tells me that I can do better, and that I must not give up at all costs. The part of me that I think is a distant memory of having had a coach, only this time it’s not his voice I hear, but mine, using his words.

In the last week I have realised a *lot* about myself.

I am emerging from the darkest decade of my life.

It started when I left university (without my degree, and with a very messed up head) and it’s been ending slowly, bit by bit, since 2006. All change is a journey right?

I think I can safely say that my dark decade (and a bit) is now well and truly over.

Interestingly enough, 2006 is when I first picked up a camera, and started out on my creative journey.

Since 2006, while my work brain has well and truly engaged, my body has been left in the dark.

But not anymore.

Everything is coming together now.

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This morning my alarm went off at 5am.

I *bounced* out of bed.

Prepped the coffee machine and turned it on to brew. Took my eltroxin (thyroid meds).

Got the right playlist up, donned the earphones, and cranked out 8.8km on my exercise bike.

I felt SO good!

Seriously you guys have no idea. I had all the right music motivating me and I barely feel like I was hard pressed. This is the me that I used to know so well.

I practically skipped back to the computer afterwards, and then queued up the soundtrack to Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story on the iMac to wake up the rest of the house later at 6am after I’d had a quick email catch up with coffee.

Everything this morning is easier. Getting dressed. Getting my boots on (not the fitting of them, the bending over and pulling). I am sitting at my desk now (obviously) and breathing easier. I have energy.

I haven’t had the guarana drink yet, that’s waiting for me in the fridge in case I feel my energy flagging, which I haven’t yet.

I have plans to try and ride again later, because I’m hoping that this buzz will hit again the way it did this morning.

I know it is not going to be an easy journey, but oh boy am I glad that I have started!?

Stupid really, considering it’s a downward spiral into winter, but I suppose there’s the motivation to keep warm by exercising! (Silver lining).

I just needed the right motivation and I am so glad that I have it.

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