Category Archives: Personal

No Explanation No Defence

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The other day I posted this on my Facebook:

Now here’s Tee, with your weekly Lunch Making Report: Tee?
Thank you, Tee.
On Monday and Tuesday there were no issues. On Wednesday, sandwiches were put into the wrong lunch bags and Daddy mourned his lack of cheese but enjoyed the white bread while Adam had a tear or two for brown bread, but ate the filling and an orange provided by Mrs L.
On Thursday, Adam had pasta so he was safe but Daddy’s sandwich was without mayonnaise. Mummy realised this around 930a and text Daddy to warn him. His reply was frown emoticon.
And now today, Friday, all lunches are within parameters and the family gave Mummy a big cheer!

Quite a lot of people liked it or smiled at it.

And then came the judges. Saying they could make their own lunches. And how in their house it was every man for himself.

And I started to get defensive. There are reasons, good ones, as to whyI make Simon and Adam’s lunches every day. Also, I shared this to poke fun at myself and lament my badly functioning brain, affected by a combination of fibro and perimenopause.

The original maker seems be lost, but I got it here: http://questinggirl.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/menopause-mothers-10-ways-to-feed-your.html

The original maker seems to be lost, but I got it here: http://questinggirl.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/menopause-mothers-10-ways-to-feed-your.html

And I started to defend myself.

And stopped.

Because why should I? The reasons Simon and I have for the way we run our family are just that; our reasons. I don’t worry about what happens in your house, so why are you so concerned about mine?

Yes. I shared the above. As I said, as a way to blow off frustration and to write it what I thought was a funny way. Not because I was looking for advice or opinion. It was just one of the many ways my poor brain is these days.

So I’m going to still post things like this.

So feel free to judge me, offer advice or do whatever you need to do to get through the day.

But I’m going to stop explaining and/or defending myself, my choices and my family.

How I went from news avoider to a news junky in just 11 years.

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I used to be one of those people who never read the news or watched it on TV or paid attention when it interrupted the music on the radio station. It was too depressing and not all that interesting and had nothing to do with me.

And then I met Simon. And he is a news junky. He reads blogs and newspapers online and off and Twitter feeds and links and so on and so forth. He reads hard news, satire, right wing, left wing, moderate. Northern Irish, English, Scottish and American. And others. He thrives on information.

And I caught the bug. Not right away or all of a sudden but gradually I began, at least, reading headlines. And Twitter blurbs.

Photo source: http://www.contenthook.com/

And then US politics got interesting as now President Obama and Hillary Clinton faced off for the Democratic Presidential Nomination eight years ago.

And so I started downloading apps to read news on. And bookmarking news sites.

And got hooked on knowledge.
Which isn’t surprising as I’ve always enjoyed learning things I want to learn.

And so I too am now a news junky. Not perhaps to Simon’s level, as he shed a tear when TeleText went off the telly (may be a slight exaggeration), but enough to be informed as to what is going on in the world.

So are you a junky? An avoider? Somewhere in the middle?

Introvert

ARGH!

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For the last time; being an introvert is not the same as being anti-social.

I like it in here. It’s quiet and I can still drink my tea.

I am an introvert.

I am very social.

But when I’m done being social I need to lie down in a dark room for awhile.

Or at least sit on the sofa with Simon on the other side of the room while I type furiously and he plays XBox.

Introvert: Someone who needs quiet to recharge their batteries.

Extrovert: Someone who needs to be social to recharge their batteries.

So stop saying ‘I can’t be an introvert, I love being social. But then I do need to have some quiet time.’

That is an introvert you big doily!

 

Living The Road Not Taken

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I was currently on holiday in Northern California. My brother has lived there for over 20 years and my sister in law, Simon’s sister, moved there late last year.

I also lived there for about 10 years and was living there when I met Simon and moved to Belfast.

When I emigrated, the hard part wasn’t leaving my country, it was leaving my family. My oldest niece was three, her sister just a baby, and I had been a part of their lives since they were born. I more or less saw them everyday. In fact, it was the elder who named me Tee!

And then I was 5,000 miles away.

And now the three year old is 15 and taller than me and the baby is 12 and my height.

And every two years or so I get to experience the road not taken as I come to visit with my family and my mom hires us a house (with her and my step dad) and for a week or two I’m a local.

This year the house is right around the corner from theirs and so there has been a lot of tooing and froing and friends of nieces’ to be fed and engaged with.

And things like this text conversation between the eldest, her mom, her dad and me, as she was coming to our house for dinner after Ballet:

 

conversation

 

Do I have regrets? A few.

I would love to be part of more text messages like that. Having my nieces, either, both, I don’t care, over for dinner because Mom and Dad are out. Have them over after school because they don’t feel like going home and have a key. Have them babysit Adam occasionally, pick him up from school, maybe, on their way to mine.

Have monthly or so R and Tee days and S and Tee days rather than every two years.

And have, as my brother said, our kids know each other rather than know of each other.

As I was hugging her good-bye, our typical so long, don’t want to let go hug, my niece said ‘Are you sure you don’t want to move back?’

She knows the answer, really. It’s not a want. It’s a fact. We can’t afford the Bay Area. And our lives are here in Belfast.

For the first time I was missing my Belfast friends almost as much as I miss my family when I was there. Adam’s mates mum’s were putting all sorts of things up on Facebook and I was sad he missed A’s birthday and the Superhero day at the park and all that.

Even though I ache to see more of this:

Sara and AdamI made my choice 12 years ago.

And I’m usually  okay with it.

 

https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/KnittedByATee

The Winter of My Disconnect…(Too good to pass up. Sorry. Not sorry.)

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About two months ago I suddenly realized I had no idea what I’d been doing all winter. I mean, my son was alive and happy, my husband likewise, and there were a few knitting bits around. But I remembered very little of it. I had been black in the Land Of The Black Dog and didn’t even realize it.

It had, indeed, been the winter of my disconnect. I can remember days, weeks even, of seeming to be looking out of my own eyes. Of being someone else inside me, watching me go through my life.

When I finally ‘confessed’ to Simon, he said he knew something was wrong. That I had spent whole weekends in bed, asleep. He didn’t say anything because he knows me and knows I would deny it, even bury it, until I was ready to say ‘It’s bad again.’

So I saw a GP at our practice and we switched me to a new medicine that worked for a bit. And then didn’t. And then I saw another GP and actually had an anxiety attack right in front of him and he switched me again. This time to Venlafaxine. Which has not only helped my anxiety, it’s helped my fibro.

To the point that I am nearly pain free. I am still tired a lot and my brain is constantly leaking out of my ears, but I can deal with that so long as I’m not in pain!

I mean, I still have pain. I’m not cured or anything. But I am so much better.

So…what have I been doing?

This:

https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/KnittedByATee

https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/KnittedByATee

Yup, I launched my shop. And immediately had two custom orders with a third happening soon.

I also sold one item from the shop directly.

I’ve also been doing this:

Yes. That’s a sewing machine. I’ve got the two Great British Sewing Bee books and I’ve started sewing from a pattern. My first shirt is nearly done and I am so chuffed with myself!

So I am feeling more connected to my life and my husband and my son and my craft. I’m imagining studio space through out my house as the dining room table is a bit inconvenient.

And, as the icing on the cake? In one week from tomorrow? I’ll be in Berkeley loving on my first two babies.

I may acknowledge their parents and my parents as well. 😀

Creating Community

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As I’ve pulled myself out of my winter of illness (and discontent) (Sorry. Couldn’t resist.) I’ve taken a deep breathe and looked around at my life.

And discovered that I suddenly have several groups of really good women friends.

Some of them are actually local to me, such as Adam’s friend’s mums. As was remarked upon at Sports Day last week, it really is awesome the way we all clicked at the pre-school gate. We’ve been hanging, helping, drinking, coffeeing and cheering each other and our kids on ever since.

Then there are two of my ‘left-over from Mumsnet’ local friends. One is also a client and great at giving me advice about what to wear, since she’s a fashion blogger. The other is my craft enabler who took me to buy my sewing machine a few weeks ago.

Then I have my online communities.

There is, forever and always, the hussies. We don’t talk as often as we used to, but we are still connected in various ways. And we all know if we vaugebook something? The rest will coming running to find out if we’re okay.

Then there’s a newer group, also acquired through Mumsnet, who are on a Facebook group now. We don’t talk all the time, but we are there for each other.

There’s the new group, as part of Jump! Parents. We are creating a lovely Facebook community of parents there as well. And I’m writing for the site, just as I’ve written for Jump! Mag. We have good discussions about parenting. And Ikea. And sometimes other stuff.

Finally there’s my best online friends, of which there is a group of four of us. We met on Mumsnet, carried on over at Twitter and Facebook. They are really the ones I wish lived down the street. That would be hard, as one of them lives in Greece, but we are talking about creating a commune at some point. 😀

Borrowed from http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-photos-beach-homes-blue-sky-background-image614913

Our future homes. Really.

And altogether, they make my community. Maybe I can’t ring most of them for a cup of sugar or a quick coffee meet or child pick up. But I know I can rely on them to be an ear and a cheer on the other end of the ‘net.

And sometimes? That’s really all I need.

I think I’ve said it before

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But I’ll say it again;

Constant pain can be gotten used to. Even expected and treated like a friend. An annoying friend, but something that is always there.

Sudden unexpected pain cannot. But it usually passes quickly.

However, sudden unexpected recurring pain can never be gotten used to, nor does it pass quickly.

All day today I have had sudden unexpected recurring pain in my upper left arm. Just sitting, not moving that arm, just surfing the web and BAM pain.

Just for a second. But sharp. Like someone stuck me with something sharp.

And then it’s gone.

And then it’s back.

And then it’s gone.

And then…

And it’s exhausting. It’s mind blurring. It’s debilitating. It’s distracting.

It’s why I wanted to clean my whole downstairs today but only managed to do the dining room a bit of the kitchen.

It’s why I want to pitch to clients and/or join a freelancers site but don’t because I don’t feel I can commit to deadlines.

It’s why my son watches so much TV in the afternoon.

I just want to be a normal, healthy 46 year old.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

Adam is…

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Sweet
Funny
Kind
Thoughtful
Frustrating
Snuggly
Crazy
Exasperating
Five, nearly six
50 pounds
Nearly four feet tall

And as of today

Officially Autistic.

It’s nice to have it official.

It’s nice to be able to say “Adam is autistic” rather then “Adam has as yet undiagnosed SEN”.

I used to think ASD was a terrifying thing. That it meant the person was broken, unfixable.

Now I know there is nothing to fix. Just a brain that is wired differently.

He’s in good company. Many people who have accomplished many amazing things are on the spectrum or suspected to be so.

I am sure whatever he becomes, he will be amazing too.

And, yes, you read that right.

He’s 46.8 inches as of a few months ago.

Or the average size of a 7 year old.

My good, big boy, as always.