New Hair, New Day, New Attitude

I have had a number of those "moments" in life that just make you evaluate where you are at with the world.

A very close friend has been told he has liver cancer. Keeping it all very much to himself and holding the details back. I don't know whether he is doing this to spare the people around him, as a coping mechanism or whether he just doesn't know himself. Hopefully should know more next week. This is a man who has played a pivotal role in my development as a human being. I met him and his life partner (they don't believe in marriage) when I was pregnant with Peta. Alone in a city where I knew noone, I had hooked up with the most unlikely of guys, and I met this couple through him. They strengthened my belief in my own power to be. They supported me unconditionally through thick and thin. Sort of like parents but better as they are never judgemental. They just encourage you to be who you want to be and fuck the rest of them. It's been a hard blow, I'm preparing for the worst but expecting the best.

My husband made a heartfelt and honest plea to me to lose weight. He adores me, I know this, I don't need to be told it, even though he does every day. He loves me to bits but I don't put that fire in his belly anymore. Emotionally yes, but physically I am falling below par. My initial reaction was to cry, standard. But almost immediately I realised he wasn't saying that it was beyond repair. He just needed me to know that the desire he has always had for me is waning and it's due to the weight but he also thinks it may be due to a bit of medical jargon too. I understand his headspace. I mean, if I despise who I have become, how is it possible for him to not pick up on it. I am the same weight I have been since about 7 years ago, I go up and down a bit but I never really move in the right direction for long. I think it was less of an issue for him in the first couple of years as I was still very confident in myself. Now, as the dieting torture continues, I belittle myself constantly, I excuse myself from life's fun times due to my weight, I have every reason in the book to not be able to stick to anything for long.
This no longer just affects my looks, my health or my life, it is now affecting the lust the love of my life has for me. This is now deadly serious.

So I am not reacting in a haphazard manner.

I am seeing this as a wake up call, not a bad thing. I mean, a relationship can only grow stronger from open pathways of communication, honest conversation and I think sometimes we all get a wee bit too comfortable, a wee bit too blase about the relationships we are in. Comfort and familiarity can sometimes lead us to a place we don't want to be.

I know I don't want to be there, especially not without the man I love.

What Sort of Lemon are You??

The sun was beaming onto the verandah. I love the verandah.

The fantails were dancing around the bushes. My Vitamin D levels were rising as I took in the warmth of the winter sun.

My little 2 and a half year old cherub Sian, angelic in looks, less so in nature, ambled over to me.

"Look Mum, it's a Siany Narny lemon" as she shoves a tiny little cute lemon into my face.

"Lovely darling".

Away she potters.

Then she comes back.

"Look, it's a Mummy lemon" she squeaks innoncently as she shoves a HUGE, half mouldy, pock marked lemon in my face.

"Nice one" I retort, trying to hide the bitterness in my voice.

Again, she totters away.

Again, she makes her way back.

Holding in front of my sunny face, a beautiful, pristine, perfect in size, unblemished lemon.

"And a Daddy one" she smiles.

I fake a smile back.

Fucken Daddy my arse, why's Mummy the deformed stuffed up rotten lemon with size issues???

Why's Daddy so bloody perfect aye??

I want to be the pretty lemon - ***** cries *******

Awkward Question ....

I want honesty and honesty alone.

No talking it up, no talking it down.

I want and need to know the answer to this question, may even graph the results if enough of you buggers answer me.

HOW MANY TIMES A WEEK (ON AVERAGE) DO YOU AND YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER HAVE SEX?

You hear the radio station polls, you see the Dolly and Cleo polls, but I want truth, from real people, in real relationships with real issues.

Following Up ...

... on all our vagina talk, I think I took something from all your comments.

I think I really had a think about being happy with what I have, regardless of what it is, instead of comparing it to what I used to look like before I had children.

What my perceptions of beautiful are need to change. Not in a general sense, as I find Tyra Banks, Queen Latifah, Beyonce, Catherine Zeta Jones, Kate Winslet, so many lovely curvey women, they are all beautiful. But I need to embrace the good things about me....... my beauty, I always am envious of confident women.

The ones with style no matter what size or what state they are in, they look great when hungover in pj's. I need to gain that confidence and make it, own it, be it.

Because people, I am BEAUTIFUL, from my head to my vagina and everywhere else in between, above and below.

Hidden Worries

****** LOOK AWAY IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE DETAILS - JULES STYLE ******

Us women, we have so many self doubts, image issues, inner fears and worries. I'm not sure if men have them anywhere near to the extent that we women do.

Usually it's my face, the chins, my arse that still shows up in the mirror ten minutes after my front half has left the view. Or the tummy, rippled with the telltale signs of four children. Or the breasts that once were a nice pert D cup, barely needed a bra. Now they are an E and would give any tribal woman run for her money in length!!

But, my latest hidden worry is definitely that; HIDDEN.

I have never had a prudish bone in my body, I'm not sure why, doesn't appear to be genetic, as my sister is not so carefree. So, I have viewed the odd adult movie, even enjoyed a few, especially the ladies only versions - for some unknown reason. And Blair - being a male of the builder, timber worker, blue collar variety - is partial to the odd Penthouse magazine. Those women look beautiful, some extremely fake, but beautiful all the same, perfectly in proportion, one toned skin, flawless features ...... and the best looking damn vaginas EVER!! Never a bump, a hair out of place (if they have hair at all), all beautiful flawless skin, right up to the pink bits.

And herein lies my insecurity.

Mine just doesn't look like that. I think it's beautiful in it's own right, but it's definitely got enough imperfections to warrant it's own psychologist.

I have dark pigmentation, especially as you head more into hidden "spots". I have the odd little skin flaps on the skin, lower down nearing the thighs, was told they were hormonal, they only appeared during my first pregnancy. My pubic hair is a wild mess that probably still has uncharted territory.

What I really want to know, and hence the graphic posting, is "Am I Normal?".

I mean, you never see your friend's snatches. You daren't ask, they'd think you were bonkers or trying to hit on them.

So ladies (and I suppose men, as you probably do more viewing than most ladies), does your hidden area resemble penthouse or is it more along my neck of the bush??

It's Hard to Be Grumpy ....

In the Country.

I am sure that you are all going to fast tire of my love for the country. I don't really give a shit if you do or not. I LOVE IT.

Yes I love it when I'm sick.

Yes I love it when I'm a chick.

Yes I love it ......

Damn it, was going along the lines of Green Eggs and Ham but just don't have the brain cells to pull it off, being sick and all. Sad.

I am into this new TV show called The Politically Incorrect Parenting Show - it's presented (and I take it written) by a clinical psychologist that is quite well known in New Zealand. It is refreshingly open, honest, logically and doesn't pull any punches. It's byline is "a new school look at old school principles". I like it!! And surprisingly, hubby does too. Wonders will, in fact, never cease.

Today I tried the eating principles. Basically the guy talked about how when a human is hungry a human will eat, if a human gets hungry enough. Parents that don't like the fact their kids won't eat vegetables need to stop giving them alternatives. Etc etc etc. I put it to the test this morning. Phoebe is a shocker for deciding she doesn't like foods anymore and Sian is a shocker for eating her breakfast. So, when they inevitably didn't eat their breakfasts I said "That's fine but you will be eating them for morning tea, and if not, then lunch and so on until you have eaten them". Phoebe eyed me up cautiously, her expression read "She's so full of crap, she says this all the time". By 10am Phoebe had clued up to the fact that I, in fact, was not joking, I was FOLLOWING THROUGH. Sian, bless, took a little longer to clue up. Let's just say that she drunk her soggy cereal and milk at 3pm and that was all she had eaten for the day. But still, it worked.

Now I'm going to use the sleep thing tonight and see if the little firecrackers may just stay in their damn beds and allow me to have some marital relations. (That is a bit of a joke as I am sick so that's not likely to happen - but it could in other health circumstances.... really, it could).

A Peaceful Existence

Of course, I knew you buggers would want my unfailing wit and natural charm to come back and grace your computer screens, just wanted you to say it!!

So, where was I??

I was recovering from psycho home invasion guy's calling, I was my usual outspoken self about where political correctness was heading, and I was bleating on about the my dream home (or yours). I don't know if I ever officially answered that one, it was definitely the high country farm for me.

The prevelant theme amongst all of it was that I wanted away from the house I was living in, for a myriad of reasons, but I wanted out. I wanted my kids in the country, running outside, getting into the dirt and fresh air. Wanted out of that house where that wankstain invaded my space and put me on a permenant edge.

This is now the view off my front verandah:



I kept looking, kept putting it out there what I wanted. And it came.

We are living on a 50 acre redundant apple orchard/farm. There is a river running through it. There are shitloads of trees everywhere, a kune kune pig called Frank, hens, two fucked up roosters, a turkey, organic sheep with wee lambs, goats and ....
the owner's daughter breeds thoroughbred horses on part of the property.

I'm basically living the dream. My house is 4 bedroom, master with ensuite and walk in wardrobe, big double lounge, farm size kitchen, dishwasher, separate study/office which looks out to the hills, kids lounge room, massive laundry, and my favourite thing - the verandah. It's tranquil and I am at peace.