Laying blame

My laptop and I are going through some serious relationship issues. He's too slow, too noisy, too demanding. Rather than try and fix him, I'm doing what I do best in these situations, I've been avoiding him.

I'm what psychologists might call a "black or white thinker". An "all or nothing" kinda gal. When I was right into my blog about a year or so ago, it was all I could think about. Now, not so much.

Recently I blamed my blog apathy on my want to avoid my own self analysis (which I usually do a lot of here) as well as my fear of judgement from others. I've even cast the blame on zombies for my blog absences. Today, though, I'm blaming my laptop. He's getting on in age. His third birthday is rapidly approaching. While three years might not sound like a ripe old age, in technology terms this piece of machinery is gaining on geriatric status and has been flagged for the old folks' home, aka my junk drawer.

As I sit here attempting to write a readable post, the fan in his posterior is whiring loudly and the software attempting to update in the background keeps flashing with threats of "not responding". Every fibre of my being wants to slam the screen down, walk away and go back to what I've set up as my new point of obsession: good ol' fashioned domestic arts and crafts.

You heard me. I've been crafting. Oh, and cooking!

My attempt at Colin Fassnidge's Roast Chicken with Famous Chicken Bread

If you're a friend on Facebook or you follow me on Instagram you'd know I've been spending time sitting on my arse knitting my little fingers to the bone! Except not really to the bone because this skeleton of mine remains amply covered because of all that luscious cooking I've been doing between knit ones and purl ones.

Click here for the free Cleckheaton pattern I'm using

I've been parenting too. Ha! You might say. Vanessa, you've been parenting since the day your bubba was born nearly five and a half years ago. I see where you're coming from, Dear Reader, but I've been sticking to a routine. Getting that kid of mine to do his homework and reading, feeding him proper food, bathing him, reading to him and getting him asleep between 8.30 and 9pm. Every. Single. Night.

And I've discovered I can do this parenting business by myself while still being a "Cool Mum".

Speaking of being a cool mum, a PR recently sent me some product to flog on my blog. I've been ignoring most PR correspondence but this lovely lady said she'd like to send me something for my kid. I was skint at the time and thought, what the hell, let's see what this freebie is all about.

We got a delivery of some Thermos Foogo products. In the bag was a Foogo Stainless Steel Vacuum Insulated Food Jar which keeps food inside nice and warm for up to five hours or cold for seven hours. And, which was was Noo's favourite, a Foogo Vacuum Insulated Drink Bottle with Silicone Straw. These products are probably aimed at the younger end of the market, but my five year old loves a sippy cup, especially one that keeps his water cool throughout the day while he is at school. What I love about this sippy cup is that it doesn't leak. If you look closely at the picture below on the right, you can see Noo's nanna in the background, watching carefully to make sure that nothing drops on the freshly laid sisal beneath where he is sitting.

Noo loves his new Thermos Foogoo products

Kicking goals all over the joint, I am. (We've been watching a lot of Star Wars. Yoda I am not.)

Yeah, I still have my woes. My mate Anxiety is still in residence. I need major surgery on my left knee and I need another iron infusion but, you know what? Today is a good day. Yesterday I could barely keep my eyes open for the anaemia related exhaustion, but today I'm feeling good about life.

Swings and roundabout, y'all. That's what life is all about.

See ya in a couple of weeks.... Maybe.

V.


Disclaimer: If it wasn't obvious already, I was given the above mentioned Thermos products. I was not paid any cash or under any obligation to mention them on my blog. But Noo liked them so I decided to give them a shout out. 

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Zombies ate my blojo

Hey Blogger.com! Hey Reader!

I'm here. Sort of. If you follow me on Instagram you'll know I'm still alive and kicking. I've written heaps of posts. Heaps I tell you! But not down on paper or on the screen. In my head. Late at night. Then by morning light those posts have all been deleted. Cruelty, I know. For me and for you. Because they were brilliant bits of writing I tells ya!

From the brilliant theoatmeal.com

Noo (Mr five going on thirty!) and I have been pretty busy. School holidays were a blast. And we survived six whole weeks with my parents overseas. Sole parenting without extended family is hard but not impossible I've discovered. I cried a lot the first week. Worked myself into a bit of an anxiety induced fervour over how I was going to get through almost two months alone. There was a lot of catastrophising and gnashing of teeth and black and white thinking. Oh, the drama!

And then something happened. I can't talk about that event here. I was basically left with the option to fall apart or get my shit together for both me and Noo. I chose the latter and you know what? We not only survived - we thrived!

OK, I'll admit that doesn't mean all my problems disappeared and there weren't any issues while I fended for myself. No, no. Of course there were ups and downs - I'm a single mum with an anxiety disorder! I spent way too much money for starters. Noo and I went out every second or third day and we probably over indulged by going to the movies four times and to the Royal Easter Show and we did eat out a bit.

My sleep could be better, I'll be honest. I can fake it 'til I make it when I'm awake but at night the subconscious takes over and anxiety permeates my dreamscape. That is unless two little orange pills take the reigns and help ease me into a dreamless slumber that I only wish I could have every night.

I'm still avoiding social situations unless its with people I really know well and who know me well. We had visitors from Brisbane and London come and stay in the city with us and we took friends to my folk's place in the Blue Mountains. I don't know why I always seem to forget how lovely real human contact is. Not that my online connections aren't lovely, but you know what I mean.

Holed up safely in my beautiful home with all it's comforts really cannot replace being with other people one on one. There was one period during the holidays that I realised I'd gone ten days without talking to an adult who wasn't either a waiter or sales assistant. That kind of made me sad and also tremendously grateful for the visitors we did have.

I haven't been spending too much time at my desk over the last few months. I've been knitting. It's my new obsession! Knitting and catching up on some of the most entertaining, bingeable TV series. They say mastering a new skill is great for mindfulness, positive psychology, anxiety, etc. I think they are right! Focusing on learning a new skill and completing a project has really given me confidence and helped quieten my chatty remunating brain. I highly recommend it.

That's all I've got for now. Back to knitting and watching the season two finale of The Walking Dead.

Source

If you didn't already know, "blojo" is short for blogging mojo.

And zombies ate mine. Rick Grimes, you can come save me anytime!

V.

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Face the fear and blog anyway

Last week, for the first time since I started my blog, I felt I needed to defend my need to write and publish my story as if my life depended on it - like my blog's existence depended on it.

Someone important in my son's life felt I was compromising Noo's (as my son will now be referred to) anonymity by publishing photos of him here. It was interesting timing for this comment as I'd just written about my fear of such a challenge.

When the words were first uttered I was completely taken aback. Not even my parents had said anything so bluntly even though I know they have their own concerns about this space of mine. I was devastated but I was forced to really think about, and write down, why I risk my own privacy as well as my five year old's.

The two days that followed were surprisingly overwrought with emotion: fear, sadness, exasperation, indignation, anger. The crazy thing is, my passion for blogging has waned this year. I've wondered if I really am comfortable having all this shit on here for anyone to read. And I've been bored by my own voice and have avoided listening to it through this medium.

So why did I react the way I did?

I realise now just how sensitive I still am about my past. How desperately I still feel the need to defend it - to myself and to others. The things that have happened to me still have such an overwhelming amount of control over me. But if I shut the past out, lock it up and ignore it, I feel like I'm giving in to it. Like it will turn into the skeleton in the family closet. A dirty little secret.

I also realised how proud I am of a lot of my writing here. Before I started this blog I had no confidence in my writing ability. I'd only ever written corporate correspondence and emails home while travelling. Through writing here I found something that I love doing. I found an activity that has kept my mind going and my computer skills current while I've been off work for the last six years. There's no way I could just throw it all away based on one person's opinion.

This is my space

So defend my blog I did.

Here is an edited excerpt from the email I wrote:

Why I won't delete photos of my son off my blog (until of course he personally asks me to) 

I’m not ashamed of my past or current struggles.

The aim of my blog is to help kill the stigma of mental illness, addiction in recovery and of being a victim of rape. I will not hide from these facts about my life. Hiding implies guilt which implies blame.

My son will be told what I've blogged about as soon as he asks or is old enough to know. He already knows about babblingbandit.me and he knows I don’t drink because it makes me go silly. When he gets bigger I will tell him of the alcoholism and depression that has plagued many members of his family.

When you google my son's name no pictures of him are found and no links to my blog are returned in the search results. However, I have completed a ‘find and replace’ to remove all instances of my son's name throughout the blog.

Please don't get overwhelmed by the “From Rock Bottom to Parenthood” story. Yes, it is graphic and confronting. But it is MY past. I own it and will not be shamed by it. And my blog is so much more than that series of posts.

Some of my favourite posts I’d like to draw your attention to:

When is the right time for kids to try alcohol?
In this post I discuss my belief, backed up by research, that children should not be encouraged to drink alcohol before the age of 18, despite many parents in our society thinking that allowing younger kids to drink at home is the way to avoid binge drinkers later in life.

Managing mental illness: Self-care
In this post I talk about my experience with mental illness and tips on how to manage it. You can see from the comments on this post that many people found it extremely helpful. I have had so many people from all different walks of life either email me or comment on my blog thanking me for my raw honesty.

Sole parenting: Mums raising boys without dad around
I discuss my fears of raising Ned without his father. I then go on to say why I believe I made the right decision nearly six years ago to not have any contact with his father, as well as delve into some referenced research as to why parenting is “not anchored in gender” and that it is possible to raise a happy and healthy boy without a dad in the picture.

The BB top 10 benefits to living sober
babblingbandit.me’s most popular blog post is The BB top 10 benefits to living sober. In this post I write a list of reasons why sobriety is awesome. I was sponsored by FebFast to write the post to inspire those taking a break from alcohol. It has been shared widely around the web.

My blog attracts approximately 900 unique views a month. In the grand scheme of things it is a tiny blog. I do however occasionally publish sponsored posts and have advertising on my blog which generate a little bit of spending money for me.

I am proud of my blog. I am proud of how far I have come as a person and as a parent. I am sure as Noo grows up he will be very proud of me as well. Everything I do, I do it for Noo. If he should get to an age where he is ready to learn about where he comes from and is unhappy with the story being online, I will remove it. But how he was conceived has nothing to do with who he is as a person and I will always reassure him of that.

I am raising my son to be a confident, happy child. I will advise him to stand up for who he is and be proud of it. I hope I will arm him with the confidence to deal with bullies should that become a problem in the future...

My email had the effect I wanted it to. Even though the whole experience was emotionally difficult, I faced my fear and won.

Now all I have to do now is get on with it and blog!


What do you think about bloggers using their kids' photos online and telling stories about them before they are old enough to consent?


V.

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Words don't come easy

Words don't come easy to me
How can I find a way
To make you see
I love you
Words don't come easy
    F. R. David, 1982

I know this is such a daggy song but it always comes to my mind when I go to write a blog post and nothing comes out. And this is how I feel right now: The words don't come easy. They are there. The words. My head is swirling with them. Getting them out on the page screen is just so hard at the moment.

Maybe it is this new medication I'm taking for my headaches. It's called topiramate. One of its common side effects is "expressive language disorder". It's brand name is Topamax which has been given the unflattering nickname of Dopamax because it can make some people seem a bit, well, dopey.

I don't feel so dopey. I feel ok so far, just not overly motivated to write, despite my recent declaration that my blog was back.

One thing that I have decided is that I don't want my blog to make me feel guilty - I have so much guilt about other areas of my life. My blog is supposed to make me feel good. I don't want to fight for page clicks or Google rankings or comments or sponsors. I'll keep that little video ad on the right over there but I'm not looking for more advertisers.

I don't think I want to write about products right now but if something really relevant comes my way and I can be bothered, maybe. But I don't want to be stressed about it. I've had a sponsored post hanging over my head since before I went into hospital last year. The PR person has been awesome in not pressuring me to get out a post, considering the brand did send me the product, but I've felt really awkward about how to deal with it now.

Would it look and feel weird if I publish it now? I should, shouldn't I? Oh, I feel like a naughty school girl who hasn't handed in her homework. So unprofessional! But I've had other priorities, you know like staying alive and looking after my kid and getting my head in a functioning order.

The update on that (my head) is that it is functioning (despite the topiramate) and my mood is definitely a hell of a lot more stable than last year but I'm still not 100% (whatever that looks like). I have good days, bad days. Some days the anxiety just overwhelms me and it hurts me in such a physical way. Like a block of cement is laying on my chest and the back of my eyeballs are jittering and I just have to wait it out until it passes.

Yesterday was one of those days. I kept busy all day. I actually did housework. Vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom. For fucksake, I IRONED. I haven't ironed anything since 2007. I kind of understood why some people with anxiety, like my best friend, have to be doing stuff all the time. It sort of keeps your mind off the fluttering in your chest but it doesn't make it go away. I want it to go away forever.

There's nothing to be worried about of course. Noo loves big school. I have a little bit of money in the bank. My weight is going down but I'm not really obsessing about that at the moment anyway. I'm sleeping ok. Walking lots. Reading book four of Game of Thrones before the new season starts on the telly.

But that's Generalised Anxiety Disorder for you. It's GENERALISED.

It's ANNOYING.

Someone once told me "resistance is persistance". I just have to embrace my anxiety in order for it to go away. My current panic attack mantra is "I have anxiety and that is ok". I say it over and over. It works to some degree because rather than fighting it I'm learning to sit with it.

Learning to stay, as Pema Chodron would say.

And, would you look at that: Looks like I've found a few words to say too.

How are you going today?

V.

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Where the bloody hell are ya?

Wow. It's been three months since my last confession blog post. I've been really looking forward to getting back into it but life has been busy. And stressful (when is it not for this little stress-head?). And, honestly, having a break from over analysing all my shit here has been nicely refreshing.

With Noo having started big school (that's right BIG SCHOOL!) last week, I'm so looking forward to having some time to myself so I can get back to doing more of the stuff I love, like blogging. And spending time with grown ups. And being by myself to do what I want to do. Oh, how I crave the ever cliched "me-time".

Here's a little catch up of what's happened while I was away...

I turned 39 years old

Truly amazing. And after enduring 2013, which turned out to be an annus horribilis to go down as one of the worst in my life, entering my 40th year is turning out to be pretty good so far.

There's was a time in my life I thought I'd never make 40, and I was proud of it. I was a rock star. Here for a good time, not a long time and all that. Times have certainly changed.

The party years

I'm not nearly as freaked out as I thought I'd be about entering my 40th year. I guess because I don't really feel 39. My body aches at times, yes. I gained 20 kilos in 2013 through depressive emotional eating. But I've now lost eight kilos since I joined the HAES movement. I'm learning to love my body how it is right now, rather than waiting for some miracle to occur that would magically turn my body into a socially acceptable shape and therefore worthy of love. Surprisingly, by doing this, I'm treating myself a lot better. And losing weight despite not being on a diet.

On my 39th birthday heading out for lunch with the family

Noo turned 5 years old

Another milestone birthday was celebrated. We went big for Noo's fifth birthday party, celebrating with all his little preschool mates at Luna Park. We celebrated not only his birthday but his graduating from the little daycare he has been attending since he was only 15 months old. We were both sad to see our time at Noo's daycare come to an end, but our family continues its connection with the school as my niece will be there a little while yet.

Celebrating Noo's fifth birthday at Luna Park

Our first summer school holidays

Noo and I had five full weeks together. The longest time he wasn't in any formal care since he was 15 months old. I was terrified I'd made the wrong decision in not enrolling him for January care but thought it would be a great time for us to hang out and do some cool stuff together.

We sure did get around: Hanging out with my sister and Noo's cousin Mala, Christmas, a couple of trips to the Blue Mountains, New Year's Eve with friends, Noo jumped on a blow up Stonehenge at Sydney Festival, Darling Quarter, Vikings at the Maritime Museum, Tyrannosaurs at the Australian Museum, nearly every public pool in the inner Sydney region, contributed to building a Lego art piece at the Opera House, and many other fun activities. We had so many big days out that by the last week of the holidays my self-proclaimed "go-boy" Noo said he was tired and wanted a few days home to rest before starting big school.

Summer fun filled holidays!

Noo started kindergarten

Noo's start to his big school life couldn't have gone smoother. He was excited rather than nervous the night before and jumped out of bed like Santa had been the night before when I told him it was time to get ready for the big day ahead. I must admit that I was a bit anxious in the lead up to the first day. More because we'd both gotten used to late nights and 8.30am sleep-ins than worried he'd be scared to go to school. He was so looking forward to it after spending most of January missing his old preschool mates.

Neither of us cried. Shock bloody horror. I've cried a few times over the summer break, about things I can't write about, but leaving Noo at big school for the first time was not one of those times. His Grandpa and I took him on the bus into town. When we got to school there were so many big kids around I was really worried he'd be overwhelmed by it all. But no, not my confident little wonder-kid. He settled in just fine. Especially with his best little mate Justine Stark always by his side.

First day of school

So there you have it! It's nearly midnight and I have to be up super early. We have been renovating our new apartment over the last three months too. I have serious reno fatigue. Sick of strangers in the place, the dust, the moving shit around, blah. But let's not end on a negative note. 

Here's to getting back to some serious blogging in 2014.

Hoping you all have had a great summer break as well.

V.

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I must confess: Blogging is starting to contribute to my anxiety

This is the first time I have participated in the "I must confess" linky hosted over at My Home Truths. After reading Tegan's (Musings of the Misguided) post for "I must confess" regarding her anxiety, it made me think about my own current anxiety and what some of the contributing factors are.

If you read my blog or follow me on Facebook or Twitter you'll know I've been having a rough time with my mental health lately. There's a chemical imbalance going on in that head of mine somewhere but there are a number of triggers that can set me off. One of them has become blogging.

I love writing my blog but I've all of a sudden become a bit paranoid about how much of my life I've published on here. I'm also nervous about being involved in sponsored posts, not publishing frequently enough, and not commenting enough on other blogs.

I worry what readers might think of me, how they judge me or the content that I write. This sort of stuff has never worried me before. Every word I have written has been honest and published with good intentions.

Even as I write this post my typing, which is usually awesome (if I do say so myself - 16 years of secretarial work will do that), is failing. I feel like I'm stuttering with my fingers while I try to identify my fears and articulate them into words.

I have never hidden the fact that I've got a blog and I've used my real name on this blog since Google Authorship began and when readers started complimenting me on my writing. I felt proud and wanted to take open credit for it. Now, oddly, I don't even believe it. The credit that is. The mind plays dirty tricks!

When I was recently named a finalist in the Bupa Health Influencer Blog Awards I didn't believe it. How could my little blog make the cut of 30 finalists out of over 600 entries? I checked and double checked the email I was sent and the Bupa website but true enough, there was my little blog's name: babblingbandit.me.

The brilliant blogger Carly Findlay won my category of "Positive Life Change" and I was honoured to be named alongside her. But still I feel this nagging sense of inferiority and paranoia that my blog is not worth it.

Anyway, I've confessed it now. I'm hoping the feeling is just an illusion; a trick played by my warped brain and that I'll get my blogging confidence back again soon.

Have you got anything to confess?

V.

PS I can barely keep my eyes open as I finish this post off so if there are any glaring errors I've missed forgive me! These meds I'm on make me so sleepy at night!

Linking up at My Home Truths

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babblingbandit.me is a Bupa Health Influencer Awards finalist

Wow! I've been chosen as a finalist for a Bupa Health Influencer Award in the category of "Positive Life Change". I'm humbled because I figure I am probably the only person who nominated babblingbandit.me for an award so it must have come down to the judges decision to put me in the final five for this category. I know there's no way I can win, the competition is amazing, but to be in the final five is awesome.

I have never pretended to be an expert at anything. Or to be an inspiration to anyone. I just write honestly from the heart because I have to. It helps me to survive.

The last post I wrote about mental illness and what I've been going through lately caused a bit of concern for my family and closest friends who read my blog. Enough for some of them to either contact me directly, or to call my parents, to make sure that Noo and I are OK. I know they are reading now so thank you for your love and concern.

I think the episode is finally passing after seven weeks of disruption and uncertainty mixed in with a lot of fear and loathing. Of course as I get better so too will Noo. I already feel our usual connection retethering, fibre by precious fibre.

The response to that last post, however, made me think about how much I divulge here, especially now so many people from my real world read my words, and the effect that might have on those people and on my family. This has always been at the back of my mind, like anyone who doesn't blog behind a pseudonym, but it's been even more of a worry to me lately.

But then I just have to remind myself why I write here at babblingbandit.me and my concerns feel neutralised by the positive reasons why I blog:

• it is my journal where I record little snippets of my life for future BB generations should they be interested
• it is where I share my tremendous joy at being a mum as well as the struggles I have as a sole parent and parenting in general
• it is my place to unload, to write as therapy
• it is where I can honestly whinge, whine and over analyse my weight issues
• it is where I hope that by sharing my struggles with mental illness I might help others suffering similar situations by letting them know they are not alone
• it is where I hope the honesty in my posts help break down the stigma of depression, anxiety and other mental health related conditions, as well as the medication some of us need to take in order to manage them
• it is where I have been able to unload my story of being a rape victim and how the events of one night unravelled me but were pivotal in helping me make positive life change
• it is where I hope to shatter the stereotypes of addiction in recovery.

I don't pretend to be an expert in weight management, mental health, addiction recovery or in parenting but I do know that writing about my experiences in these areas helps me.  If it also helps others, as a lot of readers have told me through emails and on comments, that's a huge bonus.

Cliche alert: Life is like a carousel - full of ups and downs, going around and around 

The core message I'd like anyone reading babblingbandit.me to get is that no matter how deep down you are in the dark pit that is Rock Bottom; there is always an escape. My Rock Bottom was a horrible place, but anyone who is unfortunate enough to make their way there will find a different hell from the soul that visited there before them.

All of us who find our journeys have taken us to destination Rock Bottom should be given the chance of a return ticket.  But we, the passenger at the end of the line, must reach out and ask for it and take the help* from wherever we can and then slowly learn to help ourself.

There will be setbacks. My last post proves that. There have been times in the last seven weeks where depression has tricked me into feeling so close to the emotions of my Rock Bottom that my body has literally shaken with fear. The thought of alcohol induced oblivion has, at times, seemed sweet by comparison. But I just needed to take one look at my beautiful boy and knew I wanted to live so I asked for help: From my wonderful family, my general practitioner, my psychiatrist, my pharmacist, my friends.

I'm so thankful for the support team I have. And I'm grateful I've done so much to educate myself about my mental illness to be able to notice when the cracks begin to appear before they turn into gaping holes I might fall into.

Even though it's pissing down outside in Sydney right now I believe in my heart of hearts the sun will shine again.

V.

* There are so many resources for people who need help with addiction, depression, anxiety and other mental health related issues. If you feel you need help, these sites may be what you are looking for:

reachout.com
Alcohol and Other Drugs Council of Australia
Beyond Blue
Black Dog Institute

Or call:

Lifeline 13 11 14

Suicide Call Back Service 1300 659 467

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The power of pineapples

Sponsored

I am having a really tough time of late. I wrote about it in my last post. I feel like my heart is breaking, my soul is quaking and my entire sense of self worth is dissipating. Like that rhyme? Me neither really but I'm struggling with words at the moment. I'm struggling to be a parent, an aunt, a daughter and a blogger. The four things I love being the most.

I just want everyone to go away from me for a while so I can close up all the blinds in our apartment and watch episode after episode of great television, movie after movie and escape this stuff going on in my brain. I'd have comfy trackies and uggs on. Our couch would be arranged just so it was like a snug cave and I'd be enclosed in it covered with my duvet. By my side would be an endless supply of diet coke, coffee, homemade cookies and chocolate. I'd snooze on and off in between shows. There'd be no commitments, no texts buzzing, no emails. Just me, my remote control and my comfort food.

But, of course, life goes on. I took on board a lot of the advice given to me in my last post. For Noo's behaviour to improve the both of us need more structure to our lives. For my mood to improve I need to look after one child at a time. I felt terribly guilty about it at first but I've decided to put Noo into daycare on Tuesdays so he will now be attending four days a week. It will be an excellent warm up to the five days a week he will need to endure next year anyway. Plus I can't be a quality mum if I'm completely stressed out of my mind all the time. Choosing to put Noo in that extra day is a win/win for everyone really.

One of the areas of concern for me regarding both Noo's and my behaviour and our health is our diet. I've spoken at length before about my fussy eater and of my own weight issues. I've tried to understand why he has very little interest in food. He won't sit still long enough at the table to eat a whole meal, he only likes certain foods and then those certain foods can change all the time. It drives me insane!

I recently got involved in a campaign for Australian Pineapples. The offer of a session with well known nutritionist Dr Joanna McMillan was too good to pass up. Dr Jo offered me some really great advice both in regards to my nutritional needs as well as for Noo.

Now I must admit that my slip back into depression (looks like my meds have stopped working effectively according to my GP and I'm seeing Shrink tomorrow to confirm) has really thrown me and I'm using chocolate as a way to get through it. I know you could call it self sabotage. I call it that! But my resistance is low as my mood swings from delicate in the morning through to full blown tears and woe in the afternoon.

My beautiful mum has stayed in the city with us for going on a month now. She is my confidant and my shoulder to wipe all the snot and tears on during the really awful episodes. She knows me so well and can see the cracks begin to appear on my psyche before I do. I really don't know how I'd survive sometimes if it wasn't for my mum!

Now back to pineapples. When my mum is here she makes sure we all eat properly. She doesn't do all the cooking but gives me friendly nudges to get me off my bum and into the kitchen. That coupled with some inspiring recipes from Dr Jo, as well as the winning entry for my giveaway from Claudia from Little Cottage Big Life, means we've had a few delicious and nutritous meals around here lately.


The first recipe came from Joanna McMillan.

Pineapple, Sweet Chicken and Chili Curry

Serves 4-6

Dr Jo's yummy pineapple, sweet chicken and chili curry

Ingredients

750g chicken breast or thigh, chopped
500ml coconut milk
1tbsp red curry paste
½ tsp fish sauce
3 kaffir lime leaves
½ fresh pineapple, diced
2 red chilies sliced (seeds removed if required)
2 chicken stock cubes

+ Serve with brown rice and steamed vegetables

Method 

1. Pour coconut milk, fish sauce, curry paste and stock into pot and dissolve to creamy consistency.
2. Bring curry to the boil over medium heat.
3. Add chicken and continue to cook over medium heat for 5 mins.
4. Add pineapple, kaffir lime leaves and chilis.
5. Continue to cook over low-med heat for 15 min.


This is how my attempt at this recipe turned out:

My version

I embellished the recipe a bit. Actually, a fair bit. I think this is why I don't do diets very well. I'm always adding to the recipes. My mum, the retired chef, says it's the sign of a good cook!

For starters, I used thighs instead of breasts. So much tastier! I also browned them off a bit rather than solely poaching them. I also used way more curry paste. I didn't have any Thai red curry paste so I just chucked in half a jar of korma paste which was delicious. I put the paste in just after browning the chicken. Frying it off a bit brings out the flavour of the paste.

We had a lonely eggplant in the fridge so I chopped it up and added it early on before all the liquid went in to make sure it got that nice browned off look and taste.

I'm not a massive fan of the old stock cube. The stock you buy in the tetra pack is the goods for this sort of cooking and it is one of our cupboard staples that is always stocked up. I just whacked in enough til it looked and tasted right.

The fish sauce levels were upped a fair bit too. Fish sauce is the weirdest ingredient isn't it? Stinks in the bottle but brings out the flavour in so many Asian style dishes.

This time around I omitted the chili because I was hoping Mr Fussiest Eater in the Universe might try some. He didn't but oh well, I tried.

We had kaffir lime leaves in the fridge which was lucky because I'd forgotten to buy some when out that day. The pineapple came in last, but by no means least, because it was so delicious.

My mum was sceptical when I told her about the pineapple campaign because she said pineapple wasn't currently in season. It's a tropical fruit right? While we've had a mild Autumn here in Australia, it certainly hasn't been tropical. I've been really surprised by how yummy and juicy the pineapple we've been buying has been. Not to mention some of the other 'out of season' fruit I've bought over the last week or so: rockmellon, watermellon, strawberries, papaya and passionfruit. YUM!

As you can see from my picture, my curry was heavily garnished with corriander and chopped scallions, as my mum calls them, or green onions or shallots as Aussies usually refer to them as. We also had some steamed brocolini on the side.

All in all it was a delicious meal! I had some the following day for lunch as well and my dad, who came down from the Mountains for a couple of days, also got to try some of this delicous pineapple chicken curry and was really impressed.

Do you know what? If you've managed to read this far, my post has gone from sadness, to happiness about pineapple, and my mood has lifted. The power of pineapple? Or, most probably, the power of distraction!


If you want to check out more of Dr Joanna McMillan's pineapple recipes check out the Pineapple Australia's website. I'm going to do the Quinoa Salad with Pineapple and Corriander next. YUM!

Do you like fruit mixed with savoury dishes? 

V.

PS. Thank you to all the lovely readers who entered my competition a couple of weeks ago. You had some awesome ideas for me. I can't wait to give sweet and sour pork a go. Also, I'm thinking I really need to try Kylie's mood lifter - dancing to 80s music in my undies sounds like something that could really help me right now!


Disclosure: I was given a free half hour session with Dr Joanna McMillan to discuss my nutrition issues as well as a $150 Woolworths gift voucher that was given away to one of my readers. No cash has exchanged hands. All opinions are my own in accordance with my disclosure policy.

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Day 9: One moment please

Day 9, Thursday: A moment in your day (this can be just a photo or both a photo and words)

5.37am Friday 10 May 2013

I took this photo this morning at 5.37. I woke up at five needing to go to the loo. Rather than climb back up into bed I figured I should probably get the day started. Day 8's post for the #blogeverdayinmay challenge was half written and seeing that today is day 10 I thought I better get a move on with it!

Yesterday I discovered this blog post by a blogger I hadn't heard of until this week. Jojo from iCurvy recommended a couple of iPhone apps she uses to take and process photos for her blog.

Noo and I are app addicts. I just counted 307 in my iTunes! About 30 of them are photographic apps. I always have my iPhone on me and at the ready to take a picture. I literally take thousands of iPhone photos a year. Thousands! I love capturing the everyday moments of life.

I often think about all those moments from the past that haven't been recorded because the iPhone hadn't been invented yet. It makes me a bit sad to think I just don't have that many photos of me or my family from before I got my first digital camera in 2003. Photos were taken of course but so many have either been lost or damaged or are bundled up and stored somewhere out of easy reach.

This photo I took this morning is rather mundane but it is me: sitting in front of my laptop in my lounge room, coffee in hand, writing my blog. This is my favourite place to be. It is so early that the sun hasn't come up yet. My mum and Noo are both sound asleep in their beds. There is that blissful silence that parents don't get to enjoy enough. No one is asking me anything, telling me anything, shouting, singing, demanding, requesting. Out of shot I can see the traffic start to build as workers head north onto the Sydney Harbour Bridge from Kent Street or off the Bridge heading south. I feel grateful, as I do everyday, that I'm not one of 180,000 cars that cross the Bridge everyday.

I took this picture with the usual camera app that comes with the iPhone but edited it with Tadaa as recommended by Jojo. This app is awesome. It has selective editing which none of my other photographic apps have as far as I know.

The app allowed me to select an area (in this case my arm and coffee cup) and exclude it from the filtering process. I think it looks pretty cool, if I do say so myself. There are some pretty interesting filters on there too. I'm really excited about having a decent play with it over the weekend.

So, there's my moment for day 9. A babbling one at that!

Happy Friday everyone! Here's to a great weekend wherever you are and whatever you do.


V.


Aussies: Don't forget to enter my competition to with a $150 Woolworths gift voucher! 

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Day 5: Love and devotion

Day 5, Sunday: Publicly profess your love and devotion for one of your blogger friends. What makes them great? Why do you love them? 
If you don't have blogger friends, talk about a real-life friend or even a family member


Wow, I am not sure about this topic for #blogeverydayinmay. Pick just one blogger I like? Profess love and devotion? There are so many that I love and try to read every post they publish.

But, as this is a challenge, I am going to play along but bend the rules slightly. I'll tell you my two favourite big bloggers at the moment.

Magneto Bold Too is one of my most favourite blogs. Kelley gives a lot of herself to her readers, much like I do. I've never met Kelley in real life but somehow I feel like I know her through her writing. She sometimes struggles with life and she's not ashamed to say it. She is funny and compelling and has a style of writing that is uniquely her own. I like the design of her blog and the fact that she swears. I love that she pretty much always replies to comments. I like that she told the GOMI bitches to fuck of. I just like her and I want her to win.


Woogsworld is my other favourite blog. Mrs Woog has got the lot: easy to read writing style with humour, humility and great giveaways. She does sponsored posts like no other. As a small blogger I look up to Mrs Woog as the benchmark of how to do this gig right. I love that she brings in massive reader numbers yet she doesn't have the glossy photos or an over designed site. The words are what brings me back time after time. I have actually met Mrs Woog several times at blogging events and she has always been lovely. I was completely intimidated by her awesomeness nonetheless which is all on me (read day 3 - what makes you uncomfortable to find out why).

All the other blogs I love are over there on the left hand column in my blog roll. Check them out. There are some awesome women on there with some great stories to tell.

What is your favourite blog right now? Got any recommendations for me?

V.

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What Noo loves: Superheroes and modern art

Following on from my last post is part two of What Noo loves (the first part is here). I love watching my son grow and develop his taste for things. He's definitely got a much longer attention span than I have. I can get really passionate about something and then be totally over it in a flash. I wrote about it here. Keeping this blog for nearly three years is my most enduring hobby ever.

I am Iron Man and you are Pepper Potts!

My parents bought Noo his first superhero costume. The Superman suit they brought home one day, with its moulded chest for muscles, was a little too big and uncomfortable at first. As Noo grew, and the suit came to fit, a new love was born. Dressing up as superheroes came way before the shows or the books or the action figures.

Last winter we weren't able to leave the house unless Noo was dressed in one suit or the other. My Instagram feed was packed with Noo dressed as Batman, Superman, Spider-Man or Iron Man. I had to play the girlfriend that corresponded with each character. I was Vicky Vale to Noo's Bruce Wayne, Mary-Jane to Noo's Peter Parker, and my favourite, Pepper Potts to Noo's Tony Stark.

The collection of action figures followed, and my bank account was diminished, as I forked out for the ever growing pile of plastic super men and women in tights!

The best bit about this passion of Noo's, in my view, is the films that accompany each character. Or should I say the hot actors that play them. Robert Downey Jr as Iron Man, Chris Hemsworth as Thor, Jeremy Renner as The Archer, Chris Evans as Captain America. So easy on the eye! 

My little superhero!

Art

The most surprising love that Noo has maintained is for contemporary art. Coming from an art loving family I guess it isn't surprising that he likes looking at pretty pictures but the fact that he will often choose visiting a gallery over going to a playground is pretty impressive. He also has a very mature understanding that art does not have to come from paint, textas or clay (or any other traditional medium) and you don't have to be able to understand what the object/image is. He has definitely acquired a love for the abstract.

One of Noo's favourite places to visit is Sydney's Museum of Contemporary Art. Ask him who his favourite artist is and he will tell you Anish Kapoor. When we visit the MCA Noo likes to visit all floors, even if he has already seen what is currently on display. He stops and asks the guides for an explanation of a piece if one really catches his eye. We often stop to talk about what we see and how a piece might make us feel.

We recently saw the 13 Rooms exhibition down at Walsh Bay. Noo was really excited about going when I explained to him that we were seeing performance art which is very different to the installation pieces he had grown to love in the Kapoor exhibition (which he saw twice!).

After exiting the first room, which contained a pair of twins, Noo complained "I want to see art!". He couldn't quite see the art in Damien Hirst's offer at the exhibition. As we moved from room to room I enjoyed watching Noo's reaction to each piece as much as the performances themselves.

When we reached Joan Jonas' piece titled Mirror Check Noo's enormous restraint and respect made me one proud mumma. In this piece a naked woman is standing in one spot, holding a small round mirror, scanning her entire body at a very slow pace. There were about six of us in the room quietly viewing the performance including Noo. It wasn't until we walked out that Noo said to me "you have to be very quiet in that room". For a boy that doesn't do still or quiet very well, I was most impressed.

The piece by Xu Zhen totally freaked Noo out. He wasn't in the room for more than a few seconds before he ran out in horror at what he'd seen. I was fascinated by the fear the performance invoked in him. He can watch anything on TV without so much as a flinch but the performance in this room scared him silly. Mum said to me later that he'd told her he thought the person in the room was dead. You must check out the link to see what he's talking about.

From top left: Anish Kapoor at MCA, 13 Rooms at Walsh Bay, Cardboard City at the MCA,
Anish Kapoor out the front of the MCA, drawing at the MCA, Noo and me at 13 Rooms; last row - MCA

When my parents took my sister and me to galleries when we were little I thought it was one of the most boring ways to spend my time. It actually wasn't until I went to Vienna in my early 30s that I fell in love with contemporary art so it pleases me no end that Noo has got into it early. I know kids go in and out of phases as they get older and their interests change but I really hope Noo's fascination for creatives arts continues to flourish and that we can keep discovering new artists together.

Now to encourage Noo to pursue our family's passion for music.

What hobbies or passions do you share with your kids?
Are there any in particularly you'd like to encourage them to get into?

V.

Linking up with the #IBOT crew at Essentially Jess.

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What's the drama?

Yep, there's more drama to be had here at babblingbandit.me. No, not more sex, drugs and rock n roll! I'm talking sponsored posts. There seems to be a lot of chatter around the interwebs about bloggers getting paid to give opinions on brands and their products or services. Readers seem to either love them or they hate them. It's controversial! It's divisive! It's dramatic!

I actually enjoy reading sponsored posts if they are for a product or service I'm interested in. I'm one of these people who doesn't buy anything major without having read good reviews about the product first. I scour the web for beauty bloggers' opinions on mascara or through tech blogs for reviews on the latest gadgets/computers/software. There's no way I'd buy any major appliance without having found a thumbs up from a blog or a review site.

I am also a total sucker for marketing and advertising. I love pretty packages and catchy jingles. I'm a shopping addict with a disgraceful love of consumerism. But I have little money in the bank. If I spend my cash I want to get the most out of every dollar. Reading reviews of products and services from bloggers that I trust can help me form a decision about a product.

You know what else I love? Free stuff. I've won stacks of cool things from blog competitions. I've won $100 worth of shoes for Noo, a lunchbox, some yum cha products, chocolate, tickets to Masterchef live (although the announcement email got lost in my spam folder), tickets to take the kids to see Elmo's show that's coming up in June, some pelvic floor exercise balls (yet to be tested). Oh and I won $500 for writing this post for the Digital Parents Conference sponsors RAMS. Sweet!

Blogging is my second love at the moment (after my family of course). I never really knew I could put words together to make sentences that form paragraphs that end up coming together to give you a story. My story.

Blogging takes a lot of time. I don't begrudge that time, I wish I had more of it to give to my space. I love spending time on my words and my pictures. I love reading other blogs and commenting. I love social media and being connected. I love the sense of community. I love the comments that I get that are so often filled with support and care for me. I've been overwhelmed by that support. I thank each and every person that comes to read what I have to say, not just the commenters.

I am lucky that I do have an income outside of blogging. My blog is my hobby not a business. For me to choose to do the odd sponsored post is not really all about money. Although the fifty bucks I might make to write a post like the one I did recently for Office 365 really helps. That's my coffee and cake money for a week! Of course, should my readership grow, then I may need to ask for a bit more than snack dollars.

I've enjoyed writing the few sponsored posts that I've done because I like being given a project. In each campaign that I've been involved in I've still given a little story of my life. I've never just rewritten the media release. I always mark clearly at the top that the post is sponsored so the reader can chose not to read if they wish.

Why am I going on about all this? If you haven't already noticed I've put together a little Work/Contact/Network page in the hope some more sponsored gigs might come my way. And there could be a few coming up in the near future. I just thought I'd put it out there to you guys. This is a PR friendly blog. Without compromising my voice I'd like to be able to work with brands. And, as my readers, I hope you don't mind that I do.


What do you think about the whole sponsored post malarkey? 

Yay or nay?




V.

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Floggin my bloggin With Some Grace

Writing as therapy

Wow! What an intense week it has been here at babblingbandit.me. I'm so overwhelmed by the supportive comments about my last three posts and thank all of you who have left these words for me. Writing about this time has been a really interesting and therapeutic exercise and your support has made it all the more worthwhile.

If you missed the first three posts of On being a victim of rape culture check them out here:

Part 1: The day before
Part 2: Where am I?
Part 3: The day after

Me and my beautiful boy almost
six years to the day later

The last session I had with my psychiatrist was about a month ago. In that session I had to discuss with him the freakout I had when I attempted to go back to work in an office. Rather than tell him verbally how I felt about the whole thing I gave him a printout of this blog post. Easy!

From now on, whenever I need to see a new mental health professional, I think I'll just hand them one of my babblingbandit.me business cards and say "analyse this!". My backstory is nearly all here and I find it easier to express myself in the written word than in person. The ADHD in me likes to chop and change around the story all the time which makes it difficult for anyone listening to follow.

There is something incredibly cathartic about organising past events and the emotions around them into words, sentences and paragraphs. I've re-read the last three posts so many times I can almost recite them verbatim. Something has happened to me during this process. I could almost be letting go of it. The pain I mean.

Until very recently I haven't even been able to say the 'R' word. Just saying it made me feel so uncomfortable, nauseous actually. Whenever I talk about what happened to my family or friends I refer to it as 'The Assault'. I guess it deserves capitalising because it was the one pivotal event that changed the my course of my adult life.

You might think I'm fucked up in saying this but I don't regret it happening. It was horrible, it nearly killed me, but I survived. My life was fucked up and heading towards Rock Bottom anyway. I had been trying for six months previous to get clean but nothing was getting through. Not that I was getting the right support (more on that later) but I was trying. At least I had taken the first step to recovery: I had acknowledged to myself and three other people that I was in active drug and alcohol addiction.

Something major had to happen to get me out of the toxic waste dump of a life I was living. The way I rationalise it is even though this path lead to the complete deconstruction of my soul, it gave me an opportunity to rebuild and it led me to Noo, my beautiful boy.

While I still have my many demons and my battles with mental illness continue, my life is a million times better than it was before The Assault.

Do I thank the person for doing what he did to me? Absolutely not. But I guess I forgive him. Hating him like I did for so long, just hurts me which hurts Noo.

I've had enough of hurt.

The next part of the story will continue with the 13 hours I spent with the Metropolitan Police. That was almost as bad as the Assault itself.

To be continued...


Do you write for therapy?


V.

Floggin my bloggin With Some Grace

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