28 July 2010

1% more

Put in just 1% more effort. The pain will produce results. The pain is powerful. This is my journey, only I can dictate the path. This is my pride. Results will only come if I commit, if I learn to see the pain as powerful. Just 1% more effort.

If I feel like quitting or slowing down, count to ten. Then count again if I need to. This gives me just that few seconds and the pain may pass or reduce. Pain brings results. Surely suffering through 45 minutes to an hour of exercise is worth it for results which will stay with me 24 hours a day?

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27 July 2010


I’m a little embarrassed. All my self-loathing seemed to well up inside and threatened to spill out during my personal training session today. But I may have had an epiphany. I keep thinking, when will I learn to love this? When will I stop sabotaging myself and work for myself, not against myself?

Somehow my trainer and I began talking about labour and childbirth. Kamil (my trainer) said that he felt scared of the pain of childbirth and he doesn’t even ever have to do it. He also said something else. He said that I am strong. Some of you reading this may know that I kinda enjoyed giving birth, both times. I only had tiny moments of being scared of the pain, rather it felt powerful, useful and positive.

So... I thought about it, in my pain of deep lunges, surely I can apply that same thinking to exercise? I spent a lot of time and mental energy preparing myself for child birth. I worked on coping techniques and believed in the power of myself. Surely exercise is the same thing? Surely it is momentary pain for long term rewards? Yes! That is exactly what it is!

I was very close to tears a few times in my session and Kamil advised me to go in to the cardio room and just do it, do some intense intervals and move myself out of my head space, gather some clarity. So I did. I pumped my music and I did ten minutes of hard work. And I walked out feeling good, and proud of myself.

I have not sabotaged myself today. I have eaten healthily and luckily for me there is no junk food in the house. This is normal, but needed. If there is a box or packet of something sweet or savoury, I devour it. I don’t know when to stop. Instead I have snacked on seeds and nuts (pepita, sunflower and almonds), green tea and carrots.

I will not sabotage myself for the rest of this day. I will continue to think of this power I can harness. It’s essential. I cannot continue to loathe myself.

{image via here}

26 July 2010

point & shoot {small boy walks}

The little boy decided that after his week of sickness,
Friday afternoon would be a good time just to stand up and walk.
All the way down the hall.
So funny! It was deliciously cute, he's so tiny and he looks like a bow-legged drunk man
(as do most babies when they start walking!).
So now he walks and walks and walks.
And laughs as he does it.
What a cute little Chomp he is!

And just to prove I do indeed have a daughter, here she is.
Blowing bubbles in her PJs.

Joining in with Point & Shoot, over at fat mum slim.

25 July 2010


RPM... or spin class, as you may know it. The stationary bikes kicked my butt (and thighs and calves) yesterday. It’s been a couple of years since I have attempted a spin class and wow. It just killed me. There were moments when I thought I could either throw up or pass out. But I worked hard. Maybe not at my full capacity, as I seriously thought I would grey out. I did go hard enough to feel the revolting, disgusting slackness that is my soft, pudgy body. Uhggg.

There were moments, even while I was spinning, that I wanted to cry with revulsion at my body and my slack, soft, disgusting lack of will power. How have I let myself become what I am?

I need to solidify my goals. I need a timeframe. This is something I always struggle with. Goals are meant to be specific, with an attainable timeframe. How do I know it’s attainable? Is 5kg in 2 months attainable? I really don’t know. How do I find out?

After my experience in the morning with my body, you would think it would motivate me to move forward... Instead I STILL indulged in two drinks and I feel awful. Maybe slightly hungover... but more an emotional hangover. Why do I continue to sabotage myself? Why? How do I stop?

If you know of any inspiring blogs, detailing the journey of someone who is become fit and healthy, could you please let me know?

{image via here}

21 July 2010

Symphony of sick

I sit here listening to a symphony of coughs and splutters. My eyes are aching. Ori has conjunctivitis and I think I may be getting it too. While M thought that getting ‘drips” in her eyes was so much fun and lay there loving the experience, O is a little feisty tiger. Even with Itay and I working together, we cannot get his eyes open to administer the drops. Instead I have to drip them on and then run my (clean) finger across his eyelids, hoping some liquid will penetrate and help his infection. They are really quite bad.
This sickness, this sick sick sick that has been kicking our butts since about August last year has finally made me want to run and hide. I’m sick of it. I really am. It makes me want to cry.

Selfishly, it has made me looks a hundred years older than I really am. I am covered in horrible festering pimples and I am constantly, forever tired. I look grey and hideous. My hair is lank and oily, my skin is dull and revolting. My days are spent wiping snot. I kid you not – the largest gap between festy illnesses has been three weeks.

Today I spent some of our very precious few dollars on some natural remedies to combine with “modern” medicine to help boost the little boy’s immune system. We have to do something. Anything.

We also have an appointment with a pediatrician to consult about O’s tiny tininess. He’s tiny, did I mention that? He’s not on the charts for weight and he is under the 3rd percentile for length and head circumference. 95% of me knows he is OK, the other 5% just needs to know it.

Little baby boy loves to climb. Cleverly, he has taught himself how to climb down safely! We spent a long time showing M how to turn around, bottom first, climb down safely. O just learnt all by himself, turns himself around and then edges his way down, until his tiny feet touch the ground. Deliciously cute and oh so clever, smarty tiny pants boy!

20 July 2010


My girl is turning FOUR in a few short months. Four years old. Four YEARS. She’s a real little girl now, a person with a huge personality, no baby or toddler remains. She’s a pre-schooler. A diva. A fairy princess. A FIREY princess.

So, a party. While I can still enforce (that’s such a strong word!) the theme... I will. She wants The Wiggles... She doesn’t really even watch them anymore so I am taking over. Again. Hmm, bossy mummuy. Instead... We’re having a pinwheel theme. I thought about using this theme for O’s birthday, back here.

There are so many gorgeous girly themes out there, there are a myriad of divine blogs and sites to gain inspiration from. What sold it for me was the discovery of this site, draw! pilgrim. As part of her birthday month of July, Pilgrim is very generously sharing free printable party downloads, based on themes of pinwheels and bunting. Done! I mean, look at these gorgeous cupcake toppers:

And the pinwheel papers:

And these envelopes and seals:

So, it's simple, cute and colourful. Thank you, draw!pilgrim...

Now, to check out some more ideas. Maybe the kids can make or decorate pinwheels?

19 July 2010

This is how I felt

I discovered the blog and beautiful work of Tracey Lau a few weeks ago.

Tracey recently wrote a post which touched my heart. Tracey's son has just turned one, her fifth child. I feel that she captured a feeling I experienced too. Tracey writes:

"For the first few months I survived on about two hours broken sleep a night, it was insane. Having been on this baby journey a few times before, I was comfortable with the idea that I could navigate it all, and brought into play all that I had learnt from previous experience. As time went on something was different, I felt like a heavy cloud was descending on me and I began to become overwhelmed by the most simplest of tasks. I would freak out at the fact that I had to go and get milk, I mean how many times have I bought milk before, or that a load of washing needed to be done. Tasks that I knew how to do, seemed like mammoth mountains in front of me. I would cry at everything, EVERYTHING! I questioned my ability as a mother and thoughts would fly into my head that scared me a lot. I mentioned it to a couple of people and they told me that I was a strong woman, capable and knew what I was doing, and that I would get through. Of course I agreed with them and kept going, but it wasn’t the same. Something in my body was different. If you asked me what I felt like I would have said, “when you go the beach and get dumped by a wave and you are underneath the water and everything is spinning around you, you can’t work out which way is up and for a moment you really believe you might actually die, that is what my life felt like.”

I felt like this after my first child was born. It felt like I was walking through honey, everything was foggy and it was so difficult to do anything. I still feel fearful of some small tasks and avoid them if I can. I feel sad that the two people I did speak to about this feeling, my community health nurse and my doctor, did nothing. Just asking, just opening my mouth was so difficult. The doctor said nothing. I mean, she literally said nothing. Went straight on to the next topic. Ignored. The nurse said it was best if we didn't do the "test" as I was trying to get a spot in a sleep school for my daughter, and "if they thought I was depressed it would make it harder to get it." I even called her later to ask again... But no help there. My husband was a huge, huge support and he did so much to help me, for whcih I will be forever thankful.

What changed for me was going back to work. being me... even if it was just driving to and from work alone, listening to the radio. Showing up.

Did you experience PND? What helped you?

point & shoot {another sunshiney winter day}

Soaking up the winter sunshine, eating more dirt. He loves to be outside.

Joining in, Point & Shoot over at fat mum slim.

15 July 2010

Frazzled Mummy but OK day!

I began the day with a sense of trepidation... The girl was sick, wanted to stay home. Two sick kids at home with frazzled Mummy who has two Uni assignments due, paid work due in and not in the mood for endless amount of patience required. I was extremely nervous, I have to admit it. But it actually turned out to be an OK day!

M was such a good girl. She accepted the fact that I needed to work while O was asleep and she sat quietly with the babysitter TV. We then went out to the doctor, shops, chemist and library. Both kids were great, well behaved and easy. We had a lovely time together.

M even acquiesced to my request to have a rest... I had to actually wake both kids at about 4pm, our cut-off time for afternoon sleeps. I relaxed on the bed and read for half and hour or so, then jumped up to work, prepare dinner, tidy up, all that stuff.

Not so bad after all... Let’s see how I feel after tomorrow!

13 July 2010

Stay at home

I haven’t been back to the gym since my Zumba fun, unfortunately. Sunday was a family day, and by Sunday night we had two sick kids. Ori was sick enough to need his Mummy all day at home and so my fully planned day went out the window. Personal training appointment, meeting with the child I’m working with for a Uni assignment and lots of paid work and study... none of it happened.
Being a stay at home/work at home/study at home parent can be pretty restrictive sometimes. Back when I was working “out of home” and M was sick, Itay and I would compare out day and our situations and see who needed to be at work “more” than the other. Yesterday would have been one of those days where Itay would have stayed home. But in my role as the “stay at home” parent and also the breast feeding mum, that was my job yesterday.

Being a mum who can be with her little snot monster, cuddle him, read him books and be there for breastfeeds whenever he needs soothing, all these things make up my most important role in life. I am glad I can be there for him, for them both, while they are still so little.

That’s not to say there are times when I feel like it is all too hard. After yesterday’s sick day, M woke at 10.45, just as I was heading to bed. I’d been studying all evening and just wanted five minutes of reading for pleasure before sleep. Instead, I spent until after midnight going back and forth to her room. She had bad dreams and was sobbing her little heart out. Eventually I put her in our bed with Itay and she settled after ten minutes and slept well until just after 6am.

Just as Ma’ayan settled and I finally closed my eyes, Ori started to grumble. He bumbled about in his cot on and off until just after 2.30am, when he began to cry. In, out. Water, cuddles. By 3am he was wide awake and very unhappy. I realised he had a slight temperature so some Nurofen and back to bed. I try not to feed him at night these days, too often he throws everything straight back up.

Finally by 3.30am I was in bed and sleeping. My damn phone alarm went off at 5am, which was set for either the gym or study, depending on my mood at that silly hour. My mood was for neither, and so I re-set the alarm for 6am. It felt like literally one minute later the alarm went off and it was time to begin the day.

Tired! So much work to do. Enough whinging. Back to it!

10 July 2010


I was wondering how long it takes to actually begin enjoying exercise. Well, today it happened. Itay went out for an morning early surf and M slept in. O and I giggled about and I did some of the week’s cooking and food prep. M woke up (after 8am! So late!) and then O went back to bed. M and I giggled about and I got ready to go to the gym. Itay returned home and before he’d brought his surfboard inside, I was in the car and zoomed off to Zumba!
I arrived on time but unfortunately the Zumba class was cancelled. Instead, a master class. That is, a one and a half hour class with a taste of Zumba, Body Attack, Body Combat, Body Jam, Step and pump. Holy exhausting thought, Batman.

I swallowed my terror and decided to join the class. Zumba was first up, and even after only three tracks, I know I’m going to love it! So fun, dancing is my thing. OK, I should say it was my thing, and Zumba is basically dancing. After Body Attack, I was done. Done.

My sore toes were aching, my flobby floppy flabby bits were moving far too much, and for those who have children, you’ll know what I mean when I say my pelvic floor was not coping so well. But it was fun!

The Body Attack instructor was seriously insanely cheerful and energetic and just insane. Do people that exercise like demons have this happy vibe? She was seriously hot, well, all the instructors were. I can’t decide whether this fact is motivational or devastating while you are in a class.

Anyway, I loved it and I will try my hardest to get to Zumba again! I realised today I need to be fitted for new gym sneakers, mine are very old and just not supportive or comfortable anymore. ooh, shopping excuse!

9 July 2010


5am. I did it! I got up, got dressed, brushed my teeth and splashed (icy) water on my face. I drove to the gym and I did my thing, along with a surprising number of other people. I was home just before 6.20am, which coincided with the time Ori wakes, giggling and jiggling away in his cot. No disruption to our normal morning routine. I am very tired right now, and there is no way M is going to sleep, especially as she was asleep until 7.50am this morning!

Then, just to add to my feeling of slight smugness, I have hung a load of washing, tidied the kitchen, written the weekly shopping list and meal plan, plus we also managed to get to mothers group... yay for us! It’s a great feeling.

Now, can I maintain it? Wish me luck!

{image via here}

8 July 2010

It's About Time

These inspirational words came from the Creative Organizing blog, which I found via Super Organiser Mum.

See, at the end of the day, how you choose to spend your time is how you choose to spend your life. Your life, essentially, is made up of series of choices about your time. When you choose to spend your time on activities you enjoy and those that matter to you—your life is filled with purpose, meaning and joy. So, if you aren’t getting what you want out of your time—maybe you feel guilty about your downtime, or perhaps you feel like you’re always busy but you just don’t have enough time for the things that really matter to you—then you know where I’m coming from when I say “it’s about time.”

These words have given me a little kick start. I sorted through the tower of paper taht ahs accumulated on our desk, the desk I work and study at, the desk taht crowds my mind even before I sit down. I've created a "To be actioned" pile, and some of the paperwork here urgently requires attention. You know, like registering the car.

It's about time. I need to make time to sort, simply, get organised and de-stress my head!


Guess what... O was such a great little bubba... He actually only cried when I came back to pick him up from the gym creche! I watched him through the glass and he was enjoying himself. What a relief!

The gym itself was not oo bad. Everyone is new to it, finding their way around and the couple of people I talked to were very friendly. I began slowly, just staying in the ladies area, figuring out the cardio machines.

My stupid broken toes were not enojoying the experience inside my sneakers, so a Zumba class will be a while off! However it was a positive first experience and I'm looking forward to my next visit. In order to fit exercise in to my day, it may be at 5am tomorrow morning. Gosh. Think I'll do it?!

7 July 2010

The gym

I am going to the gym for the first time this morning. Brand new gym. First time for Ori in the creche there. First time I've been to the gym for about 18 months. First time at a mixed gender gym in about six years. I'm freaking out.

6 July 2010

Where have all the flowers gone?

Where have all the flowers gone?
I’ve lost all motivation... all sparkle, all magic, all will to do anything productive. I feel guilty a lot of the time because I’m not achieving anything.

I need to snap out of this. Soon. I need to find that field of flowers in my mind again, I need to breathe its perfume. I need to find some sparkle.

{image via here}

5 July 2010

point & shoot {the little guy}

brilliant winter sunshine

My little guy is gorgeous. No questions there. He is funny, sweet and so easy to love. He is just an easy, cruisy bubba. I am not sure how I ended up with this darling bundle of chompy sweet, but I did, and oh, the blessing.

That’s not to say he can’t be trying at times, surely every child is. But his “bad” times are usually moments in time, not minutes or hours. And believe me, I know what it feels like to have hours of bad times! He rarely cries. He often smiles, he laughs easily and he so easily finds joy.

One of the most difficult tasks used to be changing his nappy, changing his clothes and drying him after his bath or shower. He was simply impossible. Over summer, we would end up streaming with sweating, physically fighting with him to hold him down and finish the job. It was awful. Somehow, he calmed down and just allows us to do all these tasks so easily now. It began around the time Itay’s parents visited (so of course they didn’t see how difficult it had been!).

O loves to eat, and when he realises that food is near, or he sees his dinner, he begins to flap his arms and legs and he yells in excitement. He loves pasta, rice, vegies, meat, rice crackers, cheese, grapes, watermelon... usual stuff. We feed him food with mild spices, curries. I’d have to say he adores hot chips. Really, he loves them. He gets cranky and begins to shout if we don’t share quickly enough.

He’s having about three or four breastfeeds a day. We had to drop the very first morning feed as he was throwing it straight back up again Instead, he has porridge and toast, then a little play. By 8am he’s looking for his feed and is happy again once he’s had a short breast feed. He then has another feed in the afternoon and his last one is before bed. I may feed him once or twice in there, depending on how he is, if he’s unwell or if he needs to be settled. There may possibly be a feed through the night, although we’re trying not to do this. We still love breastfeeding, although he giggles, bites and wacks me quite a bit through his feeds quite a bit!

He’s still only just over 8kg in weight and wearing size 0 clothes. He’s tiny.

He crawls fast and furiously, he cruises the furniture and he climbs. He climbs like a mini-Spiderman. He can get to places M never even thought of going. He’s almost ready to walk and has started standing up using his own strength rather than pulling himself up. He’ll be walking soon... I don’t want it to be too soon, I want him to stay slightly immobile for a while. We feel that he’s going to be danger boy once he gets going. If there’s a difficult path, he takes it – over, under, through... He loves it!

Oh he’s just so gorgeous. Thank you, little boy, for choosing me to be your mumma. I love you.

Playing along with Point & Shoot over at fatmumslim.

1 July 2010

Make a change

In light of my last post... A change needs to happen. I had been thinking a little about when the gym opens, and the idea in my mind that when it does, it needs to be like a switch, making a change, transforming me. That should say me, transforming me.
I went to a late movie last night... I saw New Moon. Loved it! I wished I coul have committed to the movie marathon, but the 6.30pm start is just too early for me, breastfeeding the boy before his bed time comes first.

Anyway, I dressed in warm, comfortable clothes. I checked my profile in the mirror. Uggghh... that new (since O's birth), odd shaped tummy was staring back at me. Getting bigger.

I need to make some changes. This flabby stomach, seperated stomach muscles, back pain and self loathing are not going to disappear on their own, are they? I need to enjoy my body, not endure it.

{image via here}