I'm a big boy now!

When I was a little girl through to my teen years my family and I lived in a terrace house in the Sydney suburb of Newtown. The house was on a leafy street that leads down off the main road and continues through to the railway. I always loved this house and I think I still do because I miss it sometimes. Some of my best childhood memories come from the home we had there.

One of my funniest memories from when I was a little kid was brought back to the forefront of my mind when Noo, who is fast heading towards his fifth birthday, did something almost exactly the same as my sister did at around his age.

My sister was a feisty, vivacious little girl who pretty much always knew what she wanted and knew how to get it. She had blonde ringlets and beautiful blue eyes and an attitude that could even make adults doubt their position in an argument with her. And this when she was only a preschooler!

I clearly remember the day. My mum had filled the bath and left us to our own devices to wash and play in the water for a while. I was already undressed and in the tub when Yolanda stripped off her singlet and declared it was for babies so she didn't want to wear it any more.

The offending singlet had a little blue pony on it, if I recall correctly. Yo held it ceremoniously above the toilet, dropped it in and flushed, declaring: "I'm a big girl now!"

Unfortunately for Yo, and more so for my dad, the singlet didn't make it too far passed the S-bend and clogged up our toilet pipe. I remember dad having to hire special plumbing equipment to stick in through the pipes to find that pony singlet and remove it. As you can imagine my dad was not happy about Yo's way of showing us she was over with being the baby of the family.

Noo made a similar declaration with one of his material possessions just a couple of nights ago. Thank goodness it wasn't a singlet flushed in the toilet! Instead Noo found his Thomas the Tank Engine spoon, held it up to me and said "I don't like Thomas any more because I'm a big boy now!" and proceeded to chuck the spoon into the bin with a clang.

Well I'll be. My boy is no longer a baby.

Our Thomas days are over!

Maybe that was what Miley Cyrus was trying to tell the world the other day when she made that performance at the VMAs a couple of days ago? If only she'd just chucked out her baby clothes or cutlery to show she was moving on to the next stage of her life. Surely there could have been a more appropriate way to make such a statement.


Have your kids made any grand gestures to show they are growing up?


V.

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The BB twenty twelve retrospective: The second half

Following on from my last post The BB twenty twelve retrospective: The first six months here is the run down of the second half of the year that was.


I had a few more mood dramas in the second half of the year. Anxiety being the usual culprit, but going back and reading this post I wrote in early July reminds me I had some depressed moments as well. Writing this retrospective on the year just gone has actually been quite a good exercise. I had forgotten I felt that way just six months ago and it really puts how good I feel now into perspective.

In this post I'm contemplating writing about my past and what the offline consequences sharing so much of that shit might have. Going by all of the sex, drugs and rock n roll I've written about since then I've obviously thrown caution out the window and published my heart out.

One of the topics I love writing about is my boy Noo. I love that little kid like nothing on earth. I just reread this post on playground politics and it still gets me fired up. This issue has come up a lot during the tail end of 2012. Not in the playground with me this time, in the yard at preschool. I made an official complaint about the behaviour of a child and his parents at our school's Christmas party and then the boy's mother made a complaint about me. But that story is another post in itself because I'm sure the drama will continue in 2013 when Noo goes back to daycare. I will say this though: I will not stand idly by while one little shit of a kid bullies mine and others around him, as his own parents stand there and do nothing. Oh no.

Starting from top left: Noo - A photo per month from December through to January 2012

In mid July I was diagnosed with ADHD, just to add another mental health condition to my list. We all know what that is so I won't bother linking the term to a wiki. I've had a second opinion from another psychiatrist who is an ADHD specialist and who confirmed it. After a few nightmares with my meds, I'm finally all sorted there I think. I don't think my concentration has improved that much but my mood definitely has.

And speaking of meds, my confessions on benzodiazepine abuse is still my second most popular post. I'm guessing this is probably because Zanax, Valium, benzos are search terms that rate quite highly. Or maybe it is because of the shocking reality of what can go on in an apparently reputable private psychiatric facility. Not that I named the joint.

July was a great month at babblingbandit.me because I posted 17 times (a huge number for me), one of them being an Ode to London. I'm not saying this one is any good, but I haven't written a poem since I was forced to in high school, so the fact that I chucked a few stanzas together that rhymed, well... I think that's pretty awesome.

The confessions continued to come babbling out across my keyboard as I wrote this little tale about Noo, that was followed up closely with another popular post: The dad question part 1. Writing the story about how I met Noo's father through to last time I saw him has now become a little series that continues over part 2, part 3 and part 4. I've actually written 6,500 words on this story, the last 1,500 of which I'll post later this week. But that still won't be the conclusion. Sorry to disappoint but there's more to come.

August starts with me being anxious, mainly about blogging. In an earlier post I wrote that I believed blogging was awesome because there are no rights or wrongs, no deadlines - just my own voice and my own timetable. Going by that there should be no stress about keeping this site at all. Whether people want to stay and read that is up to them. But after attending Blogopolis and reading more about the Aussie blogging scene I realised that if I wanted to monetise this space I have to put in a lot of hard work and try not to offend people.

2012 is the year I discovered that there is a lot of politics that goes on in the blogosphere. I learnt terms like 'hater' and 'troll' and I lurked from behind my screen and watched some pretty nasty arguments unfold across blogs, chat forums and mainstream media. Sometimes my breath catches in my chest as I read this shit and I wonder what I signed myself up for. I worry all the time that I'm exposing myself and Noo to the possibility of attack and I realise my earlier anxiety is justified.

Over exposure or the threat of a troll attack wasn't enough to stop me from participating in the RUOK Day initiative in September and I cried as I wrote this piece describing the day when I was not ok. As if exposing my soul wasn't enough, I exposed my body for the I Heart My Body campaign. 140 bloggers linked up with the We Heart Life team to declare they loved their bodies even if they didn't conform to society's norms of what a beautiful body should be.

Starting from top left: Vanessa - A photo per month from December through to January 2012

I haven't posted about it anywhere, which is strange, but in August I started working for my sister as Mala's part time nanny. I looked after Mala two to three days a week up to just before Christmas while Yolanda worked on the thesis for her Masters degree. Hanging out with Mala was such a pleasure and it was also a great way to ease me back into the work frame of mind. Having a commitment to be somewhere to work was empowering after such a long absence, but at the same time I did often feel frustrated that my time was not my own any more. But this is the reality of life. I had to go back to work at some stage (and there'll be more of that this year).

Mid year I signed up to the ProBlogger Training Event in Melbourne and in October made my way down south for the first time in a long time. I learnt more about how to grow my readership and monetise it - one of the most contentious issues around in the Aussie blogosphere right now. But my main motivation for flying to Melbourne wasn't really to learn how to make money from babblingbandit.me. I forked out the cash because I wanted a weekend away, and to get out of my little comfort zone here behind my screen, to meet some people I've met over social media and on their blogs face to face.

I'm getting a little ahead of myself. How could I forget 'the BB sugar experiment'? It started in August with this post about Noo's fussy eating habits and continued with some detail of my own sugar addiction. Things really started to heat up on the topic when I declared I wanted the truth about sugar. That post far outranks all others on babblingbandit.me as the most popular for both clicks and comments.

After a couple of failed attempts to get on the quit sugar bandwagon, it wasn't until I participated in Droptober - Just Lose 2kg that I finally stayed sugar free, actually lasting seven whole weeks without the evil white powder.

Then on 13 November I had my birthday, again (I'd wish they'd stop coming!), and broke the spell on my new sugar free life with a chocolate cake. Before long December rolled around and I was riding Santa's Sugar Sleigh like the sugar junkie I am.

Noo turned four just before Christmas and Mala turned one the day before Noo turned four. We had a great Christmas lunch at BB Headquarters with friends and family and on Boxing Day we came here to the Blue Mountains to relax and hang out with Nanny and Pa.

New Year's Eve was quiet, just hanging out at home with my Mum, Dad and Noo. I have never really enjoyed NYE until now. Previously there were always too many expectations and hype for a big night out. I always get a little nervous that another year is about to clock over and I haven't done all I've wanted to do. 2012 was different. I have done a lot and a lot has changed within me: My mood is stable, I've been working and have plans for more work in 2013, and my confidence and self esteem are at an all time high. I have the most wonderful kid who astounds me every day with his presence.

It was also the fifth consecutive 31st of December that I've celebrated sober. It felt good. I feel great.

There is a lot in store for me and for Noo this year, twenty thirteen. What a great number: 13. I don't want to sound superstitious, but I have a good feeling about this one.


If you made it this far and to the end of the BB 2012 retrospective, thank you. And thanks to all you wonderful readers who popped by and said hello throughout the year. I know I babble, short posts aren't really my thing. And I know some of the stuff I write about is deep and sometimes alienating and it's sometimes hard to know what to write in the comments, but I really appreciate knowing you're there.

I hope 2012 was a great year for you and that 2013 is everything you want it to be for you and your family.

V.

Updated: Linking in with the fabulous Grace at With Some Grace for...

The BB twenty twelve retrospective: The first six months

I began writing a post on New Year's Eve that started with the sentence: "I should write a post reviewing 2012 but I can't be bothered". Ah, but now I can and it has taken me days to write the story and collate the photos that made up what turned out to be a pretty big year for change for Noo and me. Not changes you can see, changes we can feel. Twenty twelve has definitely been a year worth documenting.

Last year (I can say that now, but it will feel weird referring to 2012 as 'last year' until about Easter) started off pretty well according to my first post of the year. We had a new addition to the family, my niece Mala, which was the best thing about 2011 and made 2012 one of the best of my life. Noo had just turned three and I had taken some time off my studies. I was still blogging about my lap-band and The Babbling Bandit was still at blogspot and predominately a weight loss blog.

The first half of the year had its challenges. I had chronic Restless Leg Syndrome, resulting in anxiety, insomnia, headaches, depression, concentration issues and I was basically a moody pain in the arse. When I finally got diagnosed with iron deficient anaemia and had an iron infusion resulting in a good night's sleep, life started to improve.

Despite the slow and steady improvement to my mental health, I didn't bother blogging over March, April or May. Probably because I was sick of my own whinging and figured no one else would want to read about it either. My weight was on the increase because of a bout of gastro that meant I had to have a heap of fluid taken out of my lap-band making it easier for me to eat bread, pasta, rice, cake. There's nothing more motivation sapping than writing paragraph after paragraph full of the same excuses over and over again in an attempt to justify why I'm not doing what I wish I was. It just leads to paralysis by over analysis and nothing changes.

Also during those non blogging months, with my sister on maternity leave I was spending a lot of time with her and my beautiful baby niece. In between doctor's appointments and Noo time, Yo and I got to have a lot of quality sister time, which included many a piccolo latte. This has been the best part of 2012. The time spent with Yo of course, not just the coffee!

In June I decided to get back to my blog. This place here where I write my babblings and spill my guts about my sordid past. Deciding to switch from lap-band blog to general 'personal blog' has been the best decision I have made about this site. It opened up a huge bank of memory files at the back of my brain giving me plenty of juicy content to write about. And I could stop carrying on about my dieting failures.

Attending the Nuffnang Blogopolis conference gave me the courage to just write whatever came to me. To be true to myself and my voice. To stop being scared of my story or what other people might think of it. Because the past is just that: Passed, gone, over. It is the now that matters. And my now is pretty good.

The Babbling Bandit became babblingbandit.me the week I attended Blogopolis. I thought about what I wanted to focus on writing about and came up with four main categories: sole parenting, weight issues, addiction, mental health. I rebranded with a new banner created all by me. I was quite pleased with how it turned out, incorporating the tattoo that is on my left hand into the logo (check it out above). I chose a .me web address because this site is all about ME. Call me a self indulgent narcissist, I don't care. I probably am one. I think you have to be somewhat self involved in order to be bothered to type all this stuff up anyway!

The Babbling Bandit banner before I switched from weight loss blog to personal blog and I'm still hovering around 80-85kg!

It was around the middle of the year that I discovered a whole heap of Aussie blogs that I'd never even heard of before. The big ones: Woogsworld, Edenland, Styling You, Good Googs, Random Ramblings of a Stay At Home Mum, just to name a few. And some smaller Aussie blogs: Mum of Adult Kids, Diet Schmiet, Camera Chronicles, A Study in Contradictions... Finding these bloggers led me to other bloggers, who lead me to even more cool blogs.

Moving out of the somewhat small niche of lap-band blogging into personal blogging gave me an entry into the Australian blog community that had previously alluded me. The community I have found online has been wonderful. Supportive, entertaining and educational, I have loved it all.

_______________


That was the first half of 2012. The next six months will follow shortly.


Looking back, how was your 2012? 

Do you like going back over the year that's been in order to plan for the year to come?


V.

Fussy eaters: Confectionery confessions

I know I carry on about this a lot but it is the parenting issue that causes me the most distress: My almost four year old rascal Noo has no real interest in food. Fussy Eater should be his middle name!

Noo's tiny little 11 month old niece Mala, on the other hand, eats everything that is given to her and consumes twice the amount of food in a day than her older cousin does even though she does have real food issues.

Noo could, if he wanted to, eat anything. Mala on the other hand has serious food allergies to dairy, nuts, sesame seeds and eggs. Her current weight is also considered "off the chart" as far as what she should weigh for her age (according to those silly growth charts that cause a lot of parents mostly needless worry!).

My sister and her husband have always been careful about Mala's diet, not just in regards to the foods she is allergic too, but in limiting her sugar intake as well. Yo has always been vigilant with feeding times and patient, yet persistent when it come to the long, boring slog that feeding a little one can be.

Mala's parents have always fed their little girl the most delicious combos of mashed meat, veggies and grains, along with fresh fruit and soy and other non-dairy products suitable for kids her age. I am sure this why Mala has an awesome appetite!

YUM! I would eat this: Mala's lunch today.

When I picked Noo up from daycare last Thursday I noticed on the board outside the kitchen that the menu of the day included fish fingers, veggies and chips. I made a comment to the teacher standing by that he mustn't have eaten much that day. I made that assumption because I rarely see Noo eat vegetables. And fish fingers? Forget it.

The teacher went on to tell me that he ate everything off his plate, even the veggies with a little coaxing. I was gobsmacked, if a little sceptical... or maybe it was just defeat I felt.

Noo eats well at school but terribly with me.

I know I've discussed Noo's food issues in this blog several times over the years. I even admitted I felt responsible for his terrible eating habits when I wrote this post about my fussy eater and how I thought his consumption of sugar could possibly be to blame.

Confession time...

Noo has always been a terrible eater. From the moment he was born to this very day he has been a pain in the arse with food. As his mother, his only parent, I feel I am the one responsible for this and I have struggled with how to deal with it, especially considering my own sugar addiction.

Do you want to know my worst parenting secret?

On my mum's advice, I used condensed milk on Noo's dummy all his first year of life. There, I've said it. It was so effective in keeping him soothed and quiet I became addicted to it as much as Noo did. There was always a little pot of the sweet white syrup in the nappy bag along side the nappies and wipes.

My parents thought it was a completely normal practice to dip a dummy in condensed milk before popping it into an infant's mouth. They didn't do it to hurt their precious grandson and neither did I. We just wanted him to be happy... and soothed.

But think about that! (Actually, you probably don't have to think that hard to know that what we did was terrible.) Here was a baby that refused to attach to the breast, was bottle fed and also had a dummy dipped in condensed milk everyday, several times a day. Sugar was a dietary staple from the very beginning.

I know. Bad. Very bad. Go on. Judge me. I judge me! Call DOCS now. Actually, you better not, they have more serious cases of abuse to work on!

I knew in my heart it was wrong but it worked so well to keep him quiet and as I was living with my parents I went along with it. My parents are strong people and I can be heavily influenced by them. I cannot blame them though. I am the mother, I make the decisions and I should have put my foot down. That first year of Noo's life was so challenging. I just did what I thought worked. I couldn't look toward the future to see what the long term consequences might be. I was just surviving day to day.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Mala is a mere 11 months old and eats twice as much as Noo does now at nearly four years old. Her mother never caved to the pressure from mum and dad to give her baby condensed milk (and yes, they did suggest she do it!). As I said earlier, Mala is allergic to dairy foods so it is so lucky Yolanda stayed strong!

YUM! Home made beef and vegetable stew then watermelon for lunch.
She also had half an avocado and some baby crackers.
Oh and some boob to top up.

Now I believe Noo's taste buds have been ruined by sugar in his first year but still I allow him to eat lollies and chocolate. Even when I gave it up. I am so weak at saying no to him. Over Halloween we had heaps of the crap laying around the house. Although I never let him sit there and binge he pretty much has a couple of chocolate or lollies everyday. Add that to the BBQ sauce on fish fingers (which he ate for me earlier in the week!), the Nutella on toast, the fruit flavoured yoghurt squeezies... The sugar load adds up!

Below is a little collage I did a little a couple of weeks ago for a confessional post like this. It has just taken a while to write it!

Check out the sugar hidden in nearly every corner of the kitchen!

The other vice I let Noo indulge in is what my skinny little redhead calls a "Warm Chocolate". It is a hangover from the days when he used to suck on a warm bottle of milk more than a few times a day. "Hot Bo!", "Hot Bo!", Noo would call after putting the sofa cushions in position for him to lay back and suck back the warm and comforting liquid that became a meal replacement for a fussy, lazy eater.

When I was certain Noo's milk addiction was keeping him from eating properly I threw out every bottle and teat in the house. Not long after "Mama", Noo's dummy, was disposed of too. But then came along Warm Chocolate in a sippy cup.

Transformer the cat, Noo and his warm chocolate, Peekaboo the bird
and Marco the dog in bed earlier this week.

"Please, Mummy, can I have a warm chocolate?" 

Do you know how many times a day I hear this request? Ah, probably between 4 and 100 times! He goes straight into position on the couch (or in bed), cushion in just the right spot behind him so he can balance his Warm Chocolate, Transformer and the iPad all at once.

I'll admit there have been plenty of times I've let him feast on chocolate milk because I haven't had the time or energy to fight him to eat proper food. This is where I take responsibility but we are finally making some changes.

2013: the year we finally give up milk as a meal substitute

Just like with Hot Bo and Mumma, we are giving up Warm Chocolate.

Here is my plan of attack:

1. Throw out all but two sippy cups until Noo's 4th birthday on 22 December when remaining two sippy cups will be chucked (I can't make the kid go cold turkey!).
2. Cut out night time Warm Chocolates immediately (started this on Monday this week). 
3. Give Noo an awesome mug he can call his own for his 4th birthday so he can sit up at the dining table and have a warm drink in the morning like a grown up.

I'm hoping by taking away the comfort of laying down to suck back sweetened milk will reduce the attraction of the Warm Chocolate. 

By not letting him have any warm drinks at night means he will feel more hungry and therefore more compelled to eat the food I provide for him.

I will also stop buying chocolates and lollies... after his birthday and Christmas.

Fingers crossed this works with as few battles as possible. I've just got to take responsibility and get this little kid eating for me.

Do you have a fussy eater? Any tactics you'd like to share on how to get fussy eaters to, well, EAT?

V.

Linking up with the ever awesome Grace from With Some Grace
to do a bit of floggin'

My week according to Instagram - 25 November

A day behind! But better late then never. Here's this week's Instagram collage:

From top left to right: Sunday - our Christmas tree is up; Saturday - my new Diesel watch, lunch at Ikea; Friday - whacky photo at The Rocks Bizarre, Noo and his caricature, the hoola hoop jam down at The Rocks, Noo and the bunny that looks like Transformer, bunny hurdle racing, Noo standing in his convict ancestor's chains, the Queen Victoria Building tree, The Willy Lead (the WTF of the month!), Transformer gets around with C-P30, Noo and the David Jones Christmas windows, the view from the Hyde Park Barracks, Noo and Transformer having a swing in the hammocks; Thursday - The cat that got the cream, Transformer and Peekaboo enjoy breakfast together; Wednesday - corn chowder for dinner, Noo falls asleep in Nanny and Pa's bed with Transformer; Tuesday - piccolo Palomino Espresso style, Yo in front of the MCA, stray nut (who could have done that I wonder?), Yo's silhouette, Miss Mala and her mum.  

Linking up with Tina at Tina Gray Dot Me. Check her out! She's rad.

Single mother's guilt

My life has all of a sudden got really busy: I'm working for the first time in nearly five years; I'm blogging and social networking as much as I can in order to maintain this space; and, of course, I'm a sole parent to my awesome almost four year old boy.

My day usually starts at around 6.30am when Noo arises. Three days a week Noo goes to daycare, which he loves, and I go to work as my niece's nanny. On the four days Noo is not at preschool we go on adventures out and about in Sydney or play at home. My day with kids does not end til around 8.30pm when Noo goes off to sleep. That's when I get on the computer and do blog stuff until about 11.30pm.

Now I've gone and thrown dating into the mix. And it is really time consuming!

Dating when you're a single mum is tricky on so many levels:

1. I've got to tell the family that I'm getting back 'out there' via an online dating service so there's absolutely no privacy
2. Once I've done the email thing and progressed to the 'let's meet up' phase, I've got to find a time that suits not only me and the guy, but also either my parents or sister to look after Noo so I can go out
3. I've got explain to the person I'm on a date with that I have a child but at the same time limit talking about my kid because that is generally considered boring dinner conversation even though said kid is at the centre of my world
4. When things go beyond the first date I need to explain to Noo that I've got a new 'friend' that I'm spending time with, time that I would otherwise be spending with him
5. I've got to deal with the guilt of spending time with people other than Noo
6. Deciding when it is appropriate for me to bring to the two together is tricky but more on that another time.

This is when the single mother's guilt kicks in. And it has been costing me a fortune. 

Every time I've gone out I've either bought Noo a new toy to play with while I'm out or promised to take him shopping for a new toy the day after my date. I know it is ridiculous. I am allowed to date. I'm allowed to have a life outside of being parent. I'm allowed to spend time with other adults. Knowing this doesn't make me feel any less guilty.

Lego loving

Lucky for me, a couple of weeks ago when my sister and I were doing a pilgrimage to Eastgardens, Yo suggested we go check out the toys at Big W. Because there are no Big W stores closer to us in the city, we occassionally make the trek to Pagewood because we love their kids clothing range and Noo loves the toys.

Yolanda said she'd like to buy Noo a surprise toy for when he was going to stay at their house on the Friday night. I had a hot date all lined up but Noo was already being a bit disagreeable about having to spend the evening away from me at his aunty and uncle's house.

Noo's Uncle Callum is a big fan of Lego games so what better toy to get Noo than a new box of Lego!

The night turned out to be a fabulous success, both for me on my date and Noo spending the night with his aunty and uncle and cousin Mala!

V.

Disclaimer: This is a sponsored post but all opinions are my own. See my disclosure page for more details.

Linking up for the first time with Jess for #IBOT

Cockatoo Island Biennale: Go! It is awesome and it is FREE!

After a shocking week last week, I had a fantastic time on Cockatoo Island with my sister and our kids on Tuesday. The annual Biennale is on and it is totally free. You can even get a free ferry over to the island from Wharf 6 at Circular Quay. The weather here in Sydney has been outstanding this week. Lots of mood-lifting sunshine. Perfect for some Sydney Harbour action.

Cockatoo Biennale Bonanza! 

I wanted to post this last night for Wordless Wednesday but I didn't get to it in time.

In regards to my last post and all the ups and downs I've been having regarding my meds, just thought I should let you know that I've stablised now. Had a pretty intense session with Shrink this morning and cried for hours but it was ok. It is relieving to get that shit of my chest. That is what psycho analysis therapy is all about!

Hope this post finds you well.

V.

PS. I quit sugar is going pretty well. A few slip ups, but otherwise no chocolate or lollies. Yay me!

Shoulda, woulda, coulda. I didn't. It is done.

What a relief! I'm off the rollercoaster of psych meds and feel normal again at last. I really had no idea just how messed up I was on Sunday. Really. Really. Messed. Up.

We need each other.

When I reread yesterday's post this morning I was quite upset by it but I pushed the feeling aside, the thinking about Sunday and the risks I took. About the madness and mania that the high dose of Concerta created and that I stupidly, yet desperately, tried to make go away with Xanax.

This morning I pushed the fear of what could have been aside so I could get on with today. Just as on Sunday, I pushed through brain mush to get on with that day.

As a mum, a sole parent, I've got to push through. I can't just say, Noo, I've got to go sleep this shit off, you sort yourself out for the day. There's no dad/husband/partner to ask to take over the load while I wait the damn rollercoaster out. I just try to fake it til I make it. To use a cliché.

When my sister came over this morning I declared myself much better. I had stupidly got on the scales though and was very unhappy about what I saw: 86.6kg. That's basically a 1kg increase every week for the last four weeks. I've only been on the Concerta for about five weeks now... I wonder if there is a link. Most people lose weight on it, but not me. I never get the weight loss side effect from drugs and I never get it from illness.

I was still going over in my head last night's post:

"I probably shouldn't have been driving the car on Sunday but I was fine, we didn't have any accidents but I was a mess. My motor skills were just normal but my heart was beating so fast and I was so paranoid that something really fucking bad was going to happen but I knew it wouldn't because I knew it was just the stupid Concerta but still that physically sick feeling I get with anxiety wouldn't go away."

Then when Yo told me this morning how whacked out I looked when Noo and I got to her place on Sunday, I couldn't hide any more. I was fucked up. At the time I felt I was fully under control. I felt I had to be. Push through. Push through. Go through the motions. Keep moving. It will pass. But I was driving a car. With my baby on board. Affected by drugs. There's no other way to look at it.

Fuck.

I think I must have been in denial Monday night. Fear of your disgust. Fear of my own. Never again. I should have... If only I'd...

Anyway.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda. I didn't. It is done.

V.

Goodbye Blue Mountains hello Sydney!

Noo and I are now at the tail end of our ten day break in the Blue Mountains. It has been wonderful to hang out with Yolanda, my sister, and her seven month old daughter Mala, as well as to catch up with old friends.

We've had great days chilling at home as well as some fun day trips around the Mountains. The weather has been perfect: cool, crisp days with blue skies and sunshine. There's been lots of good food both cooked at home and eaten out. And with only one day of anxiety it really has been a relaxing week away.

Today: a perfect sunny Blue Mountains winters day

The part of the Blue Mountains where my parents reside is nestled about 10km west of the main road from Sydney. It is really quiet here. There are no cafes or tacky souvenir shops. No playgrounds or tourist buses. Just a fire station and a post box serve the residents who are surrounded by the most beautiful Australian bushland. The road leading in is a tree-lined avenue that is as stunning this time of year as it is in spring and almost as beautiful in winter as it is when the leaves change colour for autumn.

My sister and I know how lucky we are to have this place as a sanctuary. A place to escape to when city life gets too much. I used to come here, before Noo was born, before my years in London, to recuperate from a hectic life of working and partying. There is no mobile network here but back in the mid 1990s to early 2000s we didn't have internet either. We were completely cut off. With fresh air and lots of good food, this was the perfect place to detox, like a mini weekend rehab.

In the months after leaving Noo's father I spent a large part of my pregnancy up here, away from the dramas at home. After my breakdown, subsequent hospitalisations and sojourn to rock bottom I lost a lot of my usual support network. The general response to the news I was pregnant was negative. Most of my friends thought I wouldn't cope, that it was unfair on the unborn child. People didn't know how to be around me. And I don't blame them. I was a mess.

I spent the first trimester of my pregnancy in very little contact with my family or friends (the period which will be the third instalment of the "The dad question"). When I finally did leave Noo's father I I had an enormous amount of work to do to mend the very damaged relationships I had with those closest to me. My relationship with my sister was one that was hurt the most. She had borne the weight of my declining mental health and increasing addictions since well before my return from London. She was tired and needed to be free of my shit for a while. It was hard. Horrible actually. But that is another story.

During the second and third trimesters I wasn't working so I spent most of my time with my parents. Actually, I did attempt a return to work but the anxiety attacks became daily again and I wasn't sleeping so I didn't last very long before I was taking early maternity leave.

Despite the hardships they'd endured during the year previous my parents were still there for me. They helped me build a home for me and Noo in a little apartment I found in the inner south west of Sydney. I also stayed with them up here in the Blue Mountains quite a bit. It was so relaxing. Mum and I would spend hours and hours every day talking about my pregnancy and Noo's impending arrival.

There have been times too when I've hated it here. Hated the seclusion, the heat in summer and the bugs! But mostly I've loved it, but only as a place to visit. Which gets me back to today. Our last night after a long week away.

The sun setting over the valley for the last time while we're here this trip

And I am so looking forward to going home! I love the city. The buzz and the hustle and bustle. The people and beeping horns. The tall buildings, the Harbour and the cappuccinos. The city workers, the inner city mums and kids at the park. Friends and daycare! My bed and my desk so I can get into a better routine to blog.

Yes, I am ready to go home.

Can't wait to get back to the bright lights of the city

'Til next time.

V.

How to cope with anxiety

I have had heaps of anxiety today. It has been one of those days that I have felt like I'm losing the battle. It's weird because I have been on top of things lately. I have been coping with my anxiety, pushing it aside, accepting it. Or have I?

Coping with anxiety? Today it didn't feel like it until I wrote about it.

I'm anxious about not being on the computer enough, not blogging enough, not commenting enough, not working the social networks enough.

I'm anxious that I'm not getting comments on my blog. Am I boring? Too confronting? Not worth reading? Too whingy? Unapproachable? Unremarkable? Unnoticeable in a Web full of amazing voices where I am too small to be heard?

I'm anxious about being on the computer too much, about not playing with Noo enough, not keeping the house tidy enough, not doing enough chores to pull my weight to help my sister.

I'm anxious about eating too much, about Noo not eating enough, about there being too much junk in the house, about really needing to get back on the diet bandwagon that I jumped off six months ago.

I'm anxious about money, about not having enough, about spending too much, about how I am going to get through to the next pay without borrowing more money, again.

I'm anxious about writing, about sharing mine and Noo's stories, about getting my stats up, about this new constant need to write it all down, to photograph life as it happens, about not missing a beat.

In my mind I am writing, writing, writing the start of a post, the middle, the end. A line pops in my head and I think: it is awesome, write it down, don't forget it, share it. Then it is gone because I'm cooking dinner or hanging out the washing or pretending I'm a train choo chooing around the deck chasing Noo.

I'm anxious about who is reading my blog and who is not. I'm anxious because my mum has started asking Yolanda about my blog, whether it is good or not, what I write about and does she think it would be ok if she read it. I don't think I'm ready for my mum to enter this space. Not yet.

I'm anxious that if my mum read my blog she will tell my dad about everything I've written because she tells my dad everything. I'm anxious that they will try to stop me from writing any more or even get me to pull down what I've already written.

I'm anxious because my dad denies any existence of my son's father. He is an atheist but wants to believe that Noo is the result of an immaculate conception. He cannot bear the reality of Noo's origins. We are not allowed to talk about him or even say his name around my dad.

And so I get back to the Dad Question. Part 1 and Part 2 are now my most popular posts next to my benzo addiction story. I know there are some readers looking forward to the next instalment. I am glad of the interest and I will write the story. I've just got to get back into the right headspace to do it.


It all really comes down to one question: Why do I blog if it causes me so much anxiety? But does it? Because actually, now, after typing this out, I feel better.

I recently read a post by Bianca at Bigwords about why she blogs. I loved this post. There are so many reasons why bloggers blog. But I relate to this: "because without it I would feel alone".

Ultimately I blog for me. I blog for release, for comfort, for support, for enjoyment, for therapy. I blog because I have to. The words are there going around and around in my head. Better that I chuck them on here where they won't be alone. Where I won't be alone. And when I'm not alone I feel less anxious.

So that is how I cope with anxiety: By blogging about it.

V.

Blue Mountains getaway

My sister Yolanda and I have come away to our parent's house in the Blue Mountains for a break from the hustle of the city. I've given Noo the week off preschool and Yo's husband is away in London at the Olympics (jealous much!) so it is just us and the kids and the best winter weather I've ever experienced in the Mountains.

Heading up the Bells Line of Road to the Blue Mountains

Noo loves it up here: the space, the garden, the fleet of vehicles he loves to ride around on the deck. Mala has taken a little longer to adjust, having had a few unsettled nights (she usually sleeps through!) but she's in the flow of it now.

Riding around in his jammies

Chillin on the couch

Mum and dad have taken themselves off to Canberra for a couple of days to check out the museums so we have the place to ourselves. With a lovely combustion fire to warm the house, a fridge full of food and the nearest neighbour being too far away to hear, it is the perfect set up.

There are only so many 'home days' Noo can handle before he goes stir crazy so we had a day trip to Lithgow and Leura yesterday. I know, Lithgow and Leura are totally not even near each other, but when we couldn't get a table at Secret Creek after our play at Queen Elizabeth Park in Lithgow we decided to head the other way over the Mountain in search of good coffee and cake. 

Playing in Queen Elizabeth Park, Lithgow

We ended up at a cafe called Fresh Espresso on the main strip of Leura. My first coffee, a skim cappuccino, was a bit disappointing but the chocolate cake was divine. It was Nigella's Nutella chocolate cake and it was served warm with vanilla ice cream. Absolutely scrumptious! Yo enjoyed her house made scones with cream and jam and Noo loved his kid's chocolate milkshake. The shake came in a plastic cup with a lid - perfect for a little kid. Yo and I finished with a second coffee. This time the piccolos were delicious. Perfect coffee taste; fresh, not too bitter with hot steamed milk. 

Chocolate cake at Fresh Espresso, Leura

After our caffeine addiction was sated we hung out in a little playground in Leura for a while, until it was time for Mala's next nap and it started to get really cold. We were back home again in time for a bit of TV, dinner, bath and kids' bedtime.

While I love being up here, especially to have this time with Yo and Mala, the only downfall is that it is hard to get on the computer to write. There are so many distractions. At home Noo is really good at entertaining himself for hours while I type away at my laptop. Here he seems to want a constant companion in his play. We have two train sets, Megablocks, a collection of toy tools and countless other toys to play with. But nothing beats having someone to play with.

Luckily we have some friends further down the Mountain to visit on Thursday and another set of friends coming up from Sydney Thursday night for a sleepover. Good times ahead!

I can hear my little man calling me from the next room so I must get off the computer to play. Actually I'm thinking it is clean up time... time to wind down for the night methinks. Let's get the kids to sleep so the adults can relax.

V.

Looking backwards to go forwards

Looking back on my recent posts I realise I've been writing so much about the past lately. While painful at times, I've found the process of writing it all down to be so cathartic. It is almost like, with each story I blog, I am able to let go of the grip each memory has had on me and I'm able to move further forward.

I started the story of Noo's father in my last post. You can catch up here if you missed it. That scene that I wrote had literally just happened and was rolling around in my head so I felt compelled to come straight to my laptop and type.

But I think there has been so much talk in my blog recently of alcohol and drugs, depression and anxiety and of rock bottom, that I need to write about something a little lighter today. Thinking about my blog this morning I thought I really should remind my readers that I have been sober for four years now. And although these last four years have not been easy due to depression and anxiety that ebbs and wanes like the tides, my sobriety has been rock solid.

Anyway, I've got in my reflective voice again. I really want to be able to write in my happy everyday voice as well. Because now, today, I am happy.

My favourite photo of the day
I'm taking the photo in the reflection of the mirror in our loungeroom
Me, Yolanda (my sister), Mala and my mum

Right now I am going through a period of stability. Oh, stability! How I love thee! Last week I was a little messed up from the new meds I'm taking but even those have settled down over the last 48 hours. Noo is happy and content. He is sleeping in his bed next to me right now. I can hear him breathe and sigh quietly and occasionally grind his teeth. I have changed him back to three days of daycare a week now that I'm feeling better than I was earlier in the year. I want to be with him when I can.

I will also start looking after my niece two days a week to help out my sister pretty soon. This will be the closest thing I have had to a real job for a while and I am really looking forward to the challenge and the commitment. I will be able to spend the next six months building up my confidence by seeing something through, as well as have time to continue to build my online presence. I am so lucky to be able to do that.

If you follow me on Twitter or Instagram you will know that I spend a lot of time with the beautiful Miss Mala. I cannot describe to you how much I love being with that little girl. She is a delight! There is something so lovely about being an aunty.

Well it is Tuesday tomorrow and on Tuesdays Noo and I catch up with some friends of mine from school and their little kids. It is always an energetic day so I best get me some sleep to recharge the batteries.

I hope everything is well in your little corner of the world.

V.

Sex, drugs n rock and roll anyone?

It is Monday night and I've sort of got the time now to blog. I say sort of because Noo is still awake despite the fact that it is 9pm. He is sitting on his bed, which is just behind me, playing with a noisy toy which is kind of distracting, but what can I do? Our room is divided into four areas - his 'room' (which is actually the area beneath my loft bed), my sleeping area, my desk, my built-in wardrobe - all cleverly furnished with a lot of Ikea furniture for maximum storage space.

We've both had great days: Noo at daycare, after a week off; and me hanging out with my sister and niece, as I do every Monday.

There's so much I could tell you about. (FYI, Noo has just fallen asleep. Yay.) Thinking about blogging content has become a constant source of internal commentary since the lead up to Blogopolis. It's similar to when I first got into Facebook in late 2006/early 07. My brain was constantly thinking in terms of 'Vanessa is...'. Such as 'Vanessa is having a cup of tea', 'Vanessa is washing her face', 'Vanessa is having a crap day'. Annoying!

I've found my mind has been casting back over the last five years for content. There's so much sex, drugs and rock n roll I could write about but I want to make sure I get it out right. So much that has happened to me just doesn't seem real. I think by putting it in my blog and getting it out there might help me come to terms with it and allow me to move on. Some of it is really trashy and some of it is just plain horrible.

Until recently The Babbling Bandit was all about my experience with my lap-band. On occasion I wrote about my past, but I haven't elaborated too much. The fear I have with giving away too much of my private life is how it might impact on my ability to get a job in the future. I know it is par for the course these days for employers to Google potential employees. Would an employer read this and think "no way, I am not employing this crazy lunatic"? Or would they not even find it at all? I am constantly asking myself this question.

What goes on behind those eyes?

My last post also got me thinking about dating again. Whenever I let myself think too much about being lonely, I think for godsakes woman, do something about it.

What would a potential partner think if they read this blog? Run a mile I would expect. And how do I meet people anyway? I don't work and I don't go out, except with Noo or other members of my family, or occasionally to catch up with friends. Teetotal single mums do not get invited out often. 

Plus dating sucks. I've just been reminded by how much too, by reading back on my blog. Check out here and here. Sounds like a fucking nightmare! I really do not want to get back into internet dating, no matter how lonely I am. I don't want to have to justify my life to anyone. I don't know how to sell this package: overweight, unemployed, single mum with excess baggage on offer to the highest bidder... sounds great... not!

Anyway, I'm not going to post this tonight. I'm over thinking my words. I think I write better when I just let the words fall on the keys. I keep writing about writing. It is annoying. It is like a stream of consciousness brain fart. I've lost my voice again. I'm just typing to get a flow on but it is not happening.

Oh, bugger it, I will post. Get something out there. I'll just chuck a little picture in and out it goes.

V.

The night before Blogopolis 2012

Can't believe tomorrow is the big day! Blogopolis 2012 is upon us. And I am excited! More so than nervous, which is great. Amazing.

I am currently at my sister's home watching my niece while her and her husband are at a dinner party. All is well so far - I have pizza, Diet Coke, chocolate and three episodes of True Blood to watch so not much actual baby watching going on to be honest. Mala's cried once but my sister insisted I not go in there unless she was hysterical. Little Miss M got herself back to sleep after about three minutes. Such a good bub that one!

I'm blogging and tweeting from this iBook thingie that belongs to my brother in law and keep pressing on the wrong buttons. It is a bit confusing. A bit similar to the anxiety dreams I have where I am trying to play the piano on a keyboard that has had all the notes moved around. I don't even know how to play piano in my conscious life but for some reason that is a reoccurring dream for me. Maybe I was like some famous pianist in past life.

Today I was supposed to blowdry my hair but never got around to it. I'm sure no one is going to notice the frizz (I hope!). And I need a haircut badly... maybe I can talk to Christina from Hair Romance about that. I really need a recommendation for a good hairdresser. I've tried 11 different salons in five years since I've been back from London and never been happy with any one of them. I'm so looking forward to hearing Christina speak. Eden Riley and Mrs Woogs are also high on my list. Crikey! There are so many actually. I feel like I'm going to be meeting real celebrities! 

Well excited.

For the breakout groups I'm definitely going to do SEO Analytics for Dummies. I seriously need to get a handle on that. This subject will also be relevant to my Advanced Web Design unit at uni when I finally get back to it.

For the next break out session I am undecided whether or not to do the Media Kit group or the Creating a Brand For Your Blog group. I need help with both, that is for sure. Maybe I can attend one and get the notes for the other. 

The third breakout session is a choice between Blog Photography and Opportunities Gained. Another hard choice. I'm thinking the latter might take trumps.

I only live about 10 minutes walk away from the venue so I won't have to get up too early but I still need to confirm my outfit and pack my tools for the day. I'm thinking paper note book, pen, iPad and iPhone and charger. Hope that is it. I could always run home if I forget anything, but that would be a pain!

I'm going to get into True Blood now. A little bit of Eric action is just what I need!


V.

Comment changes at the BB

So my day was suppose to start with a spin class over at Fitness First in Bondi. I was so anxious about it yesterday. Mainly because I hate having early morning commitments. I'm always so worried I'm not going to get there on time.

Because Noo and I share a bed I usually don't have to set an alarm to get up - Noo rouses me with a "It's wake up time! It's wake up time!" and then "What are we going to do today?". He usually opens his eyes wide awake anywhere between 6.30am and 8ish which is pretty reasonable time to be getting out of bed I think.

Because I had to transverse the city during peak hour I set my alarm for 6.30 and when it went off Noo snoozed on. I had a shower, dressed in my gym gear, had my usual coffee and then breakfast. Checked my emails, Facebook, Twitter and the front page of The Australian (my favourite paper). All was going along nicely. Noo woke and mum gave him his oats. I text my friend who I was meeting at the gym to double check she was all set to go. She finally text me back at just after 8 saying she wasn't going to make it.

Damn! That's all it took to lose my motivation.

Still in my gym gear I dropped my parents at the Quay because it was still pissing down with rain and then dropped Noo off at daycare. Just as we were getting out of the car mum called to say they got their days wrong and would I come get them again. It is lucky we only live five minutes drive away! I finally got back to the apartment sometime after 10.

By this time I wasn't feeling too crash hot. Without giving too much detail, all that fibre I've been added to my diet started having an effect on my tummy.

TMI: Adding FibreBoost and Benefiber is finally having an effect

So I ended up spending an entire day at home, dressed in gym gear, reading blogs all over the net, as well as making a few changes to mine, most notably adding a third party comment management system Disqus. I wanted to be able to easily reply to any comments being left on each post and that didn't seem possible directly through Blogger. Let me know if you like it or not.

In the afternoon my sister dropped in with the beautiful Mala. I made lunch and while Yo ate, I nursed Mali Moo and took photos of her sleeping on my lap.

Crunchy cabbage, carrot, apple, pecan salad with pork schnitzel
served with lite sour cream and Hanks Chilli Jam

My gorgeous niece. Ooooh, I love her!

So I had quite a good day getting more ideas for improving my blog and trying to get inspiration for my upcoming uni subject (advanced web design) as well as having an ok day foodwise. I just didn't FDI and go to the gym! I have my guts as my excuse though. They still feel weird. Looking forward to my blood test results tomorrow.

Good night for now.

V.

A tight start to 2012

Wow! It is 2012.

The end of 2011 was big.

My son had his third birthday and my sister had a baby girl the day before, making me an aunty for the first time. My time off uni was filled with organising Noo's birthday party and driving my sister around from one appointment to another, from shop to shop, as she did the last of the preparations for Mala's birth.

Christmas was quiet. My mum prepared food here and we took it over to my sister's to have it with her new little family. Noo is in awe of his little cousin. It is beautiful to watch how he is with her, with so much gentle amazement.

Noo looks at his beautiful little cousin Mala Grace

Having a first hold of a baby

My band has been tight. Really tight. I think it was really how it should be. Firm enough to make sure eating must be done very slowly, with lots of chewing of tiny little mouthfuls. The only problem is that I was so busy it was so hard to sit down and eat a proper meal at band-speed. With all the running around I was doing I just wanted to be able to grab a quick sandwich, hog it down and be off on the next mission. Of course this isn't possible with a band so I ended up missing a lot of meals, eating a lot of popcorn and drinking a lot of shakes.

I had a scheduled appointment with my band doctor just before Chrissy so asked for a slight unfill. He wasn't pleased about it because I was asking for the little bit to be taken out that I'd asked to be put in when I was attempting the 12wbt. But it's Christmas, I told him! I must have looked crestfallen because after giving me a little rousing off he said he'd take a tiny bit out. And tiny bit it was! I'm glad though because I've made it through Christmas and New Years and I've only gained about 1.4kg. Any gain is shit, I know, but it could have been worse.

Yesterday I had a major getting stuck episode. I was at the pool with Noo and my girlfriends and their kids. All the kids ran to the other side of the pool to play on the little playground. My friends were happy to let their kids play without too much supervision and I was trying to be all cool about it too. At the same time I was eating a cracker and mustn't have chewed enough because it got majorly stuck. I was trying to watch from a distance what the kids were up to and as the anxiety rose my throat must have closed a bit more and my band wrapped itself around that bit of bikkie. No worries I thought, I'll walk over to the playground and make sure everyone's ok and in the meantime the walk will help push the food through.

No such luck. I got Noo back to where our towels and stuff was piled and then went off to the canteen to get a drink and some hot chips for Noo's lunch. I had a big mouthful of Gatorade and that was it. I could feel the crackers and Gatorade moving around in my esophagus fighting their way to get through the hole and down into my stomach. Oh god, it was so painful! The worst getting stuck episode I've had in ages. I had to wait at the canteen for what seemed like yonks for Noo's chippies to be done while all this was happening and I became increasingly aware of my need to purge ASAP!

When finally I could take my drink and the chips back to where we were sitting I ran back to the bathroom and blurgh! Chucked everything right up. God, the relief! The crackers and the snakes (yes, so much for my new year's resolution to cut out lollies!) game up in great gulps.

The thing is I don't mind the spewing. I'm sure I've said it before. The relief is enormous and it's not like it tastes bad like a traditional vomit does. The food hasn't hit the stomach yet so it hasn't been mixed with acid. And as I see the food swirling around the basin I think, well these are calories I don't have to worry about any more!

On the dating front, I have heaps to report. I've written enough for today though so I'll save that for another day.

I hope everyone has had a wonderful start to 2012!

V.

Guilt and her good mate Anxiety

Guilt is a cognitive or an emotional experience that occurs when a person realizes or believes—accurately or not—that he or she has violated a moral standard, and bears significant responsibility for that violation.

Anxiety is a psychological and physiological state characterized by cognitive, somatic, emotional, and behavioral components.These components combine to create an unpleasant feeling that is typically associated with uneasiness, apprehension, fear, or worry. Anxiety is a generalized mood condition that can often occur without an identifiable triggering stimulus.

How many of you bandits feel guilt on a daily basis?

I suffer from guilt all the time.

Say Guilt is a person. She has two faces - Guilt on one side and Mother's Guilt on the other. She is here today. I hate her. She has brought her best mate Anxiety with her today too. They go hand in hand everywhere really. Guilt knocks on the door first and then as her presence becomes more apparent Anxiety goes and lets herself in without invitation. These two are my worst enemies.

Depression, is you guys know, is another enemy of mine, but she hasn't come calling for ages. Thank goodness, because as a team Guilt, Anxiety and Depression are very hard to battle with.

This is my second post in about 24 hours, but I need to use this forum as a type of therapy. I'm the patient and you wonderful readers and fellow bloggers are my therapists. Even though advice isn't expected, it is really nice knowing that there's people out there listening.

So, why has Guilt arrived today? Noo is sick with a cold. We've been up two nights in a row with poor Noo coughing and spluttering and basically very restless. As a result I didn't put him in day care even though I have a TAFE class this arvo. So Guilt is here telling me I shouldn't be missing another class because I missed this class last Thursday when I had problems with that sleeping pill I took because Anxiety wouldn't let me sleep the night before.

As Noo seemed ok to play I thought I'd take him down to day care so I could get to my class. Half way down the road he started crying and Guilt came screaming back at me. Mother's Guilt. She was all "how could you send this crying child to day care when he's sick?". "But Guilt said I shouldn't miss another class. I can't take him with me!" I objected. "And what about all the other kids down there? Do you want him to pass his germs on to the whole school?" she hissed. "No" and I submitted to both of them, Mother's Guilt and Noo's big tear rimmed blue eyes.

Noo and I walked back in the other direction and headed home via the coffee shop where Mother's Guilt suggested I buy Noo a choc chip friand because he was suffering. As we took the lift up to our floor Guilt started nagging at my shoulder,"but what about your class?". I ignored her. "Can you really afford to miss another one?". I'll just have to - Mother's Guilt always wins an argument.

It just sucks. These two are at me all the time. Anxiety was having a field day by this stage because I had both Guilt's faces having a go so I started to get that sick feeling in the pit of my gut. It kind of feels like going over the top of a rollercoaster but its not good. 

Mother's Guilt then had me on the floor building towers with Noo as Guilt sat in the background sulking about my not going to class and occasionally throwing me a "you'll never pass this course!" and "the teacher won't believe another excuse!".

My sister called then and asked if we'd drive her to the service shop to pick up her car and then go for lunch. It was a welcome distraction. I don't know about Guilt, but Anxiety is a frequent visitor with my sister too so she is good to talk things through with. We went to this cafe local to her and as I ordered what looked like the healthiest, most band friendly dish, Guilt was at me again. "Can you afford this Vanessa?". "Didn't you just write a blog post last night about eating out all the time?" she nagged. "How can you be sure of its dietary value? You'll be fat forever!". "Shh", I responded weakly. Mother's Guilt then asked if I was going to order something for Noo just at the same time Guilt said I shouldn't waste more money on food Noo wouldn't eat. Mother's Guilt piped up "you're not going to give him more of that processed crap again, are you? God you're a bad mother, order him a decent meal". 

$30 later with a bowl of pasta untouched by Noo and a feeling of deep dissatisfaction over the average goats cheese and beetroot salad I ate, we left to go to supermarket.

I won't go on any more but you get what I'm trying to express. I just don't know what to do about these bitches - that two faced Guilt and her bosom buddy Anxiety. I just wish they'd stop coming by my house and leave me alone for good!

V.