I've been absorbed in reading books lately. Sucked in so completely that I can't put it down! I love that, thrive on it really. That the need to take in the next word, sentence, paragraph, page could be so enthralling that time slips by blissfully is truly one of the greatest simple joys in life.
But I'm also of the avid belief that reading requires a certain mood, or set of moods. Perhaps it's a range of them. All I know is that it comes and goes like the daily tides ebb and flow, making it absolutely vital to finish a book one month, and then next I couldn't be bothered.
One part of this need to read is that space of time where my own mind is quiet, where the incessant flow of thoughts are calmed and focused on one thing. Being online to read is fine but the internet holds too many distractions, pulls me in too many directions sometimes that I forget how to 'be'.
Reading is a form of meditation for me. It allows me to reflect and wonder and dream and be inspired. And that inspiration is exactly where I am right now because it sparks the need to write from a deeper place within me. It's this fact that I know is propelling me as I start to write my novel.
It's hard to eek out enough real time to write the way I want to some days, but when I do, I find myself wrapped up in the words that pour out of me. To be honest, it's a little dizzying to see it in action and it makes me wish I could be that fly on the wall who could silent and objectively observe. Just out of curiosity.
I can tell when I'm inspired, because not only do I write everything constantly in my head (which means I better get it down quick or lose it), but I feel more eloquent. I can't say myself whether my writing style changes or not, but the process feels different, less hindered.
The beauty of our modern age of technology is that even 7000 kilometres from my home and where all my boxes of books are, I can still keep up and explore reading. For Christmas I got a Kobo Glo, which I absolutely love. Sure, there's nothing like holding a book in my hands, but given my fibro, I'll take the light e-reader over a 1000 page hardcover any day. There are so many titles in my library that are the freely distributed ones that it's hard to decide what to read next. It's just as exciting to peruse my book list as it is to walk the aisles of my library or local book story, looking for something that catches my eye. It's less about the cover of the book, that letting the title capture my attention and beckon me to take a risk. A time when words can trump an image.
I mentioned in my previous blog incarnation that I am a Star Trek fan, so it should come as no surprise that I quite happily delve into those with abandon, and can freely admit that I've read two of them in the last week and was so engrossed that I end up staying up far later than I planned to or should have. Oh well, the inspiration to write that I got was well worth it.
I intend to keep this going too. Some of my other mom friends have formed a book club, which to be honest is just an excuse once a month to get together without our children and drink wine. But we did select a book (The Thirteenth Story by Diane Setterfield) and I've just starting reading the first chapter. I've only read the first page, but already my attention has been captured.
Bliss indeed.
Showing posts with label Simplistic Living. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Simplistic Living. Show all posts
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Navigating the Waters
Life is a lot like going down a turbulent river in a boat of some kind (raft, canoe, kayak- take your pick). You start at one place and are sent hurtling through rapids, with white water splashing all around and on you. You're trying very hard to hold on to your paddle and kept yourself on course. Sometimes there are other paddlers there with you, but sometimes the specific channel you're navigating is a solo task.
It's hard work! There are moments when you feel you're losing track of the route that leads to your destination, and sometimes you end up on a different part of the river altogether. To be fair, I've never actually been whitewater rafting, but I remember watching the kayakers on the river not too far from where I grew up as a small child and this is how I envision what they were going through.
Sometimes there is so much water spraying around you that you feel like you're going to drown. Your paddle can't seem to steer worth shit and you feel so very helpless. But then the river widens a bit and you hit calmer waters. Suddenly, you can breathe and relax again. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
I never wrote about my birth story with Miss K. In the aftermath of PPD, I was just trying to keep myself going; and truthfully I still am. But I think back to it every now and again, especially when I am around a newborn and remember those hours.
All told it was a fairly smooth birth and from the time they moved me from triage to a delivery room and the time Miss K was born, five hours passed. 9pm- 2:09 am. Those who have been reading my blog(s) since those days may recall I was having blood pressure issues and was high risk for pre-eclampsia. The decision to induce me a couple days before her due date was made promptly at my OB appt that morning when I came in with a splitting headache and my pressure was 150/90. I was tired, in pain and the thought of trying to manage the headache for however long it took her to decide to come along on her own made me ill.
My OB got the process started by rupturing the membranes that morning. A small detail perhaps, but that kick-started labour all on it's own and by the time I arrived at the hospital that evening, I was in labour. A couple hours later, as we were watching the contractions on the monitor, we noticed they were consistent. They moved me into the delivery room at the same time as my parents arrived, fresh off their ferry and mad dash to make it from one city to another to be there.
I had back labour. Horrible, painful back labour due to her laying on her side. Because of my blood pressure, they had me hooked up to monitors and had a fetal monitor on K. I had to stay on my back because every time I shifted into a different position (like I desperately wanted to), they would lose her heart rate. After a couple of hours of this, I was in tears because the pain meds did nothing and I was exhausted from the all day migraine. They suggested, and I accepted an epidural... quite happily I might add. I could have done without the contraction that happened right as the anesthesiologist was inserting the needle though.
The part of this story that made me think of the river metaphor was when during the last parts of delivery I gave up. I was tired and pushing was harder than I ever imagined. The epidural helped a great deal but also softened the intense awareness I have of my own body. It's hard to trust your body to do what it needs to in that instance. I don't remember all the details vividly, but I do remember saying that I couldn't do it, I couldn't do anymore. It didn't feel like I was accomplishing anything. The nurse (or was it the resident?) did the one thing I will forever be grateful for. She paused everything and made me touch K's head. I had no idea had close we were to her actually being out, and in that one moment when I could so easily touch the top of her head I was thoroughly humbled. Yes, I could do this since I
was doing it!
It was that calmer part of the river, where I could breath, where I could evaluate where I was and see where I had to go next. It was also essential, I think, for me a woman who had lost two pregnancies, to see that yes, the baby that had been moving inside of me was actually real!
In fact, when the next contraction came and I continued pushing, I was resolved. I was going to do anything and everything to see this through. I was a bit... um... overenthusiastic in fact, as evidenced by how quickly she came out. The joke is that the resident needed a catcher's mitt, lol. None of it mattered though once they placed her on me. But my first thought was 'a real baby'?!
She was real.
I was thinking about that moment the other day when walking home. I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately in fact. These last couple of years have been extremely turbulent and this time two years ago, we were preparing to move out of our apartment in Vancouver and move in with hubby's parents because with no money and no job on the horizon we couldn't pay rent or any of our bills. We were broke, having spent the last of our savings on that month's rent and food.
Here we are two years later and I'm writing from a flat in Scotland. Scotland! It still boggles my mind, truly. I don't know if it'll ever really sink in or not, but I guess I have three years to find out.
Right now, in this moment, I'm in calmer waters. They are certainly moving swiftly though, but it's calm. I know what's ahead of us in the next couple of months and for now, that's all I need to focus on. In 27 days we fly home for Christmas. 20 days of time with both our families and I can't wait!
In other good news, a few days ago I officially walked out of a bank with a bank account of my very own. Which (gulp!) means that I can start my business. I won't start until we come back from our trip though, as there's not enough time to ramp up and get things going before we leave. But I have to say, after this year's ups and downs, this crucial piece of the puzzle feels rather anticlimactic. Calmer waters indeed. I have work to do, but there's no great rush, and I'm going to enjoy this breather while it lasts, because the rapids are looming again. It's going to get busy, and I doubt I'm truly prepared, but I've got my paddle in hand and am ready to go.
It's hard work! There are moments when you feel you're losing track of the route that leads to your destination, and sometimes you end up on a different part of the river altogether. To be fair, I've never actually been whitewater rafting, but I remember watching the kayakers on the river not too far from where I grew up as a small child and this is how I envision what they were going through.
Sometimes there is so much water spraying around you that you feel like you're going to drown. Your paddle can't seem to steer worth shit and you feel so very helpless. But then the river widens a bit and you hit calmer waters. Suddenly, you can breathe and relax again. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
I never wrote about my birth story with Miss K. In the aftermath of PPD, I was just trying to keep myself going; and truthfully I still am. But I think back to it every now and again, especially when I am around a newborn and remember those hours.
All told it was a fairly smooth birth and from the time they moved me from triage to a delivery room and the time Miss K was born, five hours passed. 9pm- 2:09 am. Those who have been reading my blog(s) since those days may recall I was having blood pressure issues and was high risk for pre-eclampsia. The decision to induce me a couple days before her due date was made promptly at my OB appt that morning when I came in with a splitting headache and my pressure was 150/90. I was tired, in pain and the thought of trying to manage the headache for however long it took her to decide to come along on her own made me ill.
My OB got the process started by rupturing the membranes that morning. A small detail perhaps, but that kick-started labour all on it's own and by the time I arrived at the hospital that evening, I was in labour. A couple hours later, as we were watching the contractions on the monitor, we noticed they were consistent. They moved me into the delivery room at the same time as my parents arrived, fresh off their ferry and mad dash to make it from one city to another to be there.
I had back labour. Horrible, painful back labour due to her laying on her side. Because of my blood pressure, they had me hooked up to monitors and had a fetal monitor on K. I had to stay on my back because every time I shifted into a different position (like I desperately wanted to), they would lose her heart rate. After a couple of hours of this, I was in tears because the pain meds did nothing and I was exhausted from the all day migraine. They suggested, and I accepted an epidural... quite happily I might add. I could have done without the contraction that happened right as the anesthesiologist was inserting the needle though.
The part of this story that made me think of the river metaphor was when during the last parts of delivery I gave up. I was tired and pushing was harder than I ever imagined. The epidural helped a great deal but also softened the intense awareness I have of my own body. It's hard to trust your body to do what it needs to in that instance. I don't remember all the details vividly, but I do remember saying that I couldn't do it, I couldn't do anymore. It didn't feel like I was accomplishing anything. The nurse (or was it the resident?) did the one thing I will forever be grateful for. She paused everything and made me touch K's head. I had no idea had close we were to her actually being out, and in that one moment when I could so easily touch the top of her head I was thoroughly humbled. Yes, I could do this since I
was doing it!
It was that calmer part of the river, where I could breath, where I could evaluate where I was and see where I had to go next. It was also essential, I think, for me a woman who had lost two pregnancies, to see that yes, the baby that had been moving inside of me was actually real!
In fact, when the next contraction came and I continued pushing, I was resolved. I was going to do anything and everything to see this through. I was a bit... um... overenthusiastic in fact, as evidenced by how quickly she came out. The joke is that the resident needed a catcher's mitt, lol. None of it mattered though once they placed her on me. But my first thought was 'a real baby'?!
She was real.
I was thinking about that moment the other day when walking home. I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately in fact. These last couple of years have been extremely turbulent and this time two years ago, we were preparing to move out of our apartment in Vancouver and move in with hubby's parents because with no money and no job on the horizon we couldn't pay rent or any of our bills. We were broke, having spent the last of our savings on that month's rent and food.
Here we are two years later and I'm writing from a flat in Scotland. Scotland! It still boggles my mind, truly. I don't know if it'll ever really sink in or not, but I guess I have three years to find out.
Right now, in this moment, I'm in calmer waters. They are certainly moving swiftly though, but it's calm. I know what's ahead of us in the next couple of months and for now, that's all I need to focus on. In 27 days we fly home for Christmas. 20 days of time with both our families and I can't wait!
In other good news, a few days ago I officially walked out of a bank with a bank account of my very own. Which (gulp!) means that I can start my business. I won't start until we come back from our trip though, as there's not enough time to ramp up and get things going before we leave. But I have to say, after this year's ups and downs, this crucial piece of the puzzle feels rather anticlimactic. Calmer waters indeed. I have work to do, but there's no great rush, and I'm going to enjoy this breather while it lasts, because the rapids are looming again. It's going to get busy, and I doubt I'm truly prepared, but I've got my paddle in hand and am ready to go.
 |
| The glass is actually full... |
Thursday, November 15, 2012
One Day at a Time
Pardon me while I flop down tiredly with my cup of tea.
Miss K and I got back from a rather long walk this afternoon. It was like most of the days here lately where the rain is light be ever present and just looking outside makes you feel depressed. I'm bracing myself since I know rain is in the forecast for another few days.
Our letting agent came by for a an inspection, which meant that though I was sure as hell not cleaning the flat top to bottom for a five minute chat, I did at least feel compelled to tidy and vacuum the carpets. Not that the vacuum really sucks up anything. Just enough to make it look a little better but not enough to actually clean the carpets. This annoys me to no end, especially with a three year old around who's always playing on those carpets. But in this rental living game I've learned some important lessons and one of those is to pick your battles.
In this case it means though while my comments and list of things wrong with the place is as long as my arm, in reality I only mention the top three in hopes that they might actually get taken care of. If we're lucky.
This time it was a repeat of all three of the things I mentioned before: Our sinking bathtub, the foot board for the cupboards that needs cutting and reinstalling so it's not laying on our kitchen floor by our feet, and the awful mattresses. He really seems to be on top of them this time, but I think I won't get my hopes up. I know a lot of it depends on the owner, and it's probably unlikely the owner probably hasn't set foot in the place in years to know what really needs help, so this is where our intermediary letting agent comes in, right? Maybe. We'll see.
In any case, the flat is clean, I baked banana bread and made lunch and then we went for a walk. Stepping out into the misting rain, I pegged the temperature at about 4 degrees C. It was definitely chilly and so I was glad Miss K cooperated enough to let me put a hat and gloves on. She however is refusing to let us put on her winter jacket since if she goes in the stroller, she can't put her arms in the straps. She likes doing that a great deal, so goodness knows what happens when it snows and she doesn't want to walk.
We walked down to the River Clyde and on the approach to the river I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera or my phone. The river was rather still and glossy, creating near perfect reflections. Considering how rare this was, my eye was snapping pics in my head and I pouted to myself.
Despite the rain it was a fairly enjoyable walk, once we got passed the part where Miss K insisted on going to the Science Centre and we couldn't because our passes had expired and we won't be renewing them until after the new year. If we head anywhere near there and we just walk by, she freaks out. I felt for her truly because I would have loved to have taken her this afternoon, but it wasn't going to happen. C'est la vie. We had to settle for the active (and free) walk.
You'll notice that we went out in the afternoon. Yes, that can only mean one thing: she's stopped napping. What began when she was sick a couple weeks ago has continued and no amount of trying can get her down for a nap.
It's an adjustment for both of us because I felt like I lost that time I needed to do anything, like write, or bake, or clean, or more importantly some days, nap. Last week I figured out what her energy levels were like and I've learned she works best when she is very active in the morning and then in the afternoon she is then happy to do quiet things and even curl up on the couch. She may not nap, but she rests and I can actually do something. Which is how I'm writing this post right now.
I'm slowly building an arsenal of activities to keep her busy in anticipation of the many days where it's too wet to play outside and I can't afford to do extra things at indoor places. We know which museums we can go to within easy walking distance, but to be honest I can't go there all the time. It gets boring. However, I am lucky to have made some friends and hopefully there are play dates in the future.
Part of this shift has been realizing just how much activity she needs and also how to balance the quiet time for both our sakes. We can't go, go, go for 8 hours straight, so working out a good balance is key.
In other news, her vocabulary is improving, so one can only hope that she will find her words sooner rather than later to ease her frustration. This week has been far better than last week, and I attribute that to her not being sick and to us adjusting to the no-nap scenario.
I'm exhausted most days though, and barely have time to do any of the creative things I love. I know it will get there, but it's frustrating too. I also had a three-day headache over the weekend and that was frustrating because we had some nice days and all I wanted to do was go out with my camera.
Speaking of which, naturally now that I'm inside, the rain has stopped and the sun was poking out a little. Yeah, so not cool. But it's too late to go out again and I need to go make pizza dough for dinner, which got so much easier to make when I figured out how to get it not to stick to my pan and now that I own a rolling pin.
Simple things.
Miss K and I got back from a rather long walk this afternoon. It was like most of the days here lately where the rain is light be ever present and just looking outside makes you feel depressed. I'm bracing myself since I know rain is in the forecast for another few days.
Our letting agent came by for a an inspection, which meant that though I was sure as hell not cleaning the flat top to bottom for a five minute chat, I did at least feel compelled to tidy and vacuum the carpets. Not that the vacuum really sucks up anything. Just enough to make it look a little better but not enough to actually clean the carpets. This annoys me to no end, especially with a three year old around who's always playing on those carpets. But in this rental living game I've learned some important lessons and one of those is to pick your battles.
In this case it means though while my comments and list of things wrong with the place is as long as my arm, in reality I only mention the top three in hopes that they might actually get taken care of. If we're lucky.
This time it was a repeat of all three of the things I mentioned before: Our sinking bathtub, the foot board for the cupboards that needs cutting and reinstalling so it's not laying on our kitchen floor by our feet, and the awful mattresses. He really seems to be on top of them this time, but I think I won't get my hopes up. I know a lot of it depends on the owner, and it's probably unlikely the owner probably hasn't set foot in the place in years to know what really needs help, so this is where our intermediary letting agent comes in, right? Maybe. We'll see.
In any case, the flat is clean, I baked banana bread and made lunch and then we went for a walk. Stepping out into the misting rain, I pegged the temperature at about 4 degrees C. It was definitely chilly and so I was glad Miss K cooperated enough to let me put a hat and gloves on. She however is refusing to let us put on her winter jacket since if she goes in the stroller, she can't put her arms in the straps. She likes doing that a great deal, so goodness knows what happens when it snows and she doesn't want to walk.
We walked down to the River Clyde and on the approach to the river I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera or my phone. The river was rather still and glossy, creating near perfect reflections. Considering how rare this was, my eye was snapping pics in my head and I pouted to myself.
Despite the rain it was a fairly enjoyable walk, once we got passed the part where Miss K insisted on going to the Science Centre and we couldn't because our passes had expired and we won't be renewing them until after the new year. If we head anywhere near there and we just walk by, she freaks out. I felt for her truly because I would have loved to have taken her this afternoon, but it wasn't going to happen. C'est la vie. We had to settle for the active (and free) walk.
You'll notice that we went out in the afternoon. Yes, that can only mean one thing: she's stopped napping. What began when she was sick a couple weeks ago has continued and no amount of trying can get her down for a nap.
It's an adjustment for both of us because I felt like I lost that time I needed to do anything, like write, or bake, or clean, or more importantly some days, nap. Last week I figured out what her energy levels were like and I've learned she works best when she is very active in the morning and then in the afternoon she is then happy to do quiet things and even curl up on the couch. She may not nap, but she rests and I can actually do something. Which is how I'm writing this post right now.
I'm slowly building an arsenal of activities to keep her busy in anticipation of the many days where it's too wet to play outside and I can't afford to do extra things at indoor places. We know which museums we can go to within easy walking distance, but to be honest I can't go there all the time. It gets boring. However, I am lucky to have made some friends and hopefully there are play dates in the future.
Part of this shift has been realizing just how much activity she needs and also how to balance the quiet time for both our sakes. We can't go, go, go for 8 hours straight, so working out a good balance is key.
In other news, her vocabulary is improving, so one can only hope that she will find her words sooner rather than later to ease her frustration. This week has been far better than last week, and I attribute that to her not being sick and to us adjusting to the no-nap scenario.
I'm exhausted most days though, and barely have time to do any of the creative things I love. I know it will get there, but it's frustrating too. I also had a three-day headache over the weekend and that was frustrating because we had some nice days and all I wanted to do was go out with my camera.
Speaking of which, naturally now that I'm inside, the rain has stopped and the sun was poking out a little. Yeah, so not cool. But it's too late to go out again and I need to go make pizza dough for dinner, which got so much easier to make when I figured out how to get it not to stick to my pan and now that I own a rolling pin.
Simple things.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Letting Go
Continuing the trend of 'aha' moments, I've been working on trying to cope with the terror than can be a three year old. As a friend on Facebook mentioned, gone is the terrible twos, she now has a 'threenager' on her hands. An apt description if I ever heard it. It's not just about this small child of mine testing boundaries, now she pressing buttons and crossing lines because she can and because she knows it gets a reaction out of me. Not to mention the blood-curdling screaming that erupts out of nowhere when she doesn't get her way.
Insert proper time outs.
We had tried it before but it wasn't working. Now that she's a little bit older and comprehending a bit more (we think), they are more effective, if not to truly correct the behaviour, but to diffuse the situation, especially when tempers run high. There's only so many times in a day when I can be slapped before I want to hide out in another room. A difficult feat in such a small apartment when she can get into too many things.
Have I mentioned that she can now open any door? We won't get into the other day when she decided to leave the apartment while I was in the bedroom getting dressed. The lock system is such that we have to use a key to lock it, or put up the chain (which requires remembering to remove before your spouse comes home lest they think they're being locked out).
It's most definitely a test in patience, and I'm finding myself on the edge quite often. I'd be surprised if mothers of young children don't all have high blood pressure. In any case, the time outs are smoothing things out a bit.
The other side of this age is the creativity and crazy things they do for the sheer fun of it. Lots of times I laugh (instant blood pressure relief) but other times I just get frustrated because we don't own this place or most of the contents. Our living space is also our eating space, so you can imagine how frustrating it is to deal with spills on a crappy old carpet. There are days I'm glad for its dark green colour (some odd blend of forest green and teal). Luckily for us the place and stuff within wasn't in the greatest condition to begin with, so with some good cleaning we can hopefully get our damage deposit back when we move out.
This morning was another one of those strange moments where I was getting really frustrated with her, but also had a lightbulb go on. She loves the creative kids shows. There's a craft type show and a kids cooking show she really likes and we can watch her fiddle with stuff to mimic them. We'd be happier if she'd stick to pretend cooking for the moment, rather than 'mixing' her juice and pouring it all over the table and floor. Not fun to clean up, and not good for our tight budget.
I realized though this morning that somewhere within this all is a solution that will work for us, because there is the realization that our little girl has a wonderfully creative mind and I in no way want to quash that. I am an artist myself, and my husband is creative in his own way as well (musically inclined). I want to let her play and experiment, but somehow we need to find a way to do that that isn't at the expense of our furnished flat and doesn't cost a lot of money. I'm trying to see if we can swing an art or music class but so many of them around here are pricey.
Things to mull over as I do some short and long term planning.
Insert proper time outs.
We had tried it before but it wasn't working. Now that she's a little bit older and comprehending a bit more (we think), they are more effective, if not to truly correct the behaviour, but to diffuse the situation, especially when tempers run high. There's only so many times in a day when I can be slapped before I want to hide out in another room. A difficult feat in such a small apartment when she can get into too many things.
Have I mentioned that she can now open any door? We won't get into the other day when she decided to leave the apartment while I was in the bedroom getting dressed. The lock system is such that we have to use a key to lock it, or put up the chain (which requires remembering to remove before your spouse comes home lest they think they're being locked out).
It's most definitely a test in patience, and I'm finding myself on the edge quite often. I'd be surprised if mothers of young children don't all have high blood pressure. In any case, the time outs are smoothing things out a bit.
The other side of this age is the creativity and crazy things they do for the sheer fun of it. Lots of times I laugh (instant blood pressure relief) but other times I just get frustrated because we don't own this place or most of the contents. Our living space is also our eating space, so you can imagine how frustrating it is to deal with spills on a crappy old carpet. There are days I'm glad for its dark green colour (some odd blend of forest green and teal). Luckily for us the place and stuff within wasn't in the greatest condition to begin with, so with some good cleaning we can hopefully get our damage deposit back when we move out.
This morning was another one of those strange moments where I was getting really frustrated with her, but also had a lightbulb go on. She loves the creative kids shows. There's a craft type show and a kids cooking show she really likes and we can watch her fiddle with stuff to mimic them. We'd be happier if she'd stick to pretend cooking for the moment, rather than 'mixing' her juice and pouring it all over the table and floor. Not fun to clean up, and not good for our tight budget.
I realized though this morning that somewhere within this all is a solution that will work for us, because there is the realization that our little girl has a wonderfully creative mind and I in no way want to quash that. I am an artist myself, and my husband is creative in his own way as well (musically inclined). I want to let her play and experiment, but somehow we need to find a way to do that that isn't at the expense of our furnished flat and doesn't cost a lot of money. I'm trying to see if we can swing an art or music class but so many of them around here are pricey.
Things to mull over as I do some short and long term planning.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Turning on the Light
Have you ever had a moment of true epiphany? I mean, not just a small 'aha' moment, but one that brings you such clarity that you are stunned you never figured it out before?
I just had mine.
Or at least, one of a couple I've had in my life so far. This time though, it's not just an agent of change but one that compliments the track my mind was on anyway.
I've done a few different jobs before. I've done food service, worked as a receptionist at various places for years, been an event planner, admin assistant and project manager. I've chaired meetings and co-chaired committees.
In all the work I've done, there are two things I've come to understand about myself in my life circumstances:
1. I need to work with people.
2. I need to work for myself.
Number two I instinctively understood after I became a stay-at-home mom. Working as I had been before was insanely stressful and not good for my health. And the thought of returning to the office work world was not something I cared for.
Now, as I've been talking about for awhile, I have been working towards making photography a source of income for me, moving from amateur to professional. Being self-taught means it's a long process and sometimes a frustrating one, but I really do love it. I can (and do) spend hours reading and immersing myself in educating myself. Putting it into practice is another thing, and while most of the time I can, equipment limitations mean I simply can't go out and 'try' what I've just learned. Inevitably I'll have to re-read that part again when I do get the equipment, but for now I'm enjoying the learning. It's like being in school without the exams and stress.
At some point, I'll actually pay for my continuing education too. I have my eye not only on some amazing online resources for photography and the business of, but also taking workshops and classes here and there to really get to work on some new skills.
So, we come back to my two points earlier above. What about number two in all of that? Well, as it happens, my epiphany happened earlier this month when a friend asked me to do some photos of her family before they moved back to the States. She would pay me for them.
Insert nervous smile.
Now, I love taking pictures of people. One of my favourites (that don't include my daughter) is one of my one of bosses at a golf tournament. He was chatting with a group of friends and someone said something really funny. He clapped his hands together and threw his head back laughing. 'Click' went my shutter. It was a beautifully candid moment where you really got to see him. I treasure that photo even more now, because I can understand a lot about myself by the mere fact that I not only was aware enough to take the image, but that it meant something to myself and the rest of my colleagues. Because it was of someone we cared about. It moved me.
Now, I always wanted to be able to make photography my career, but it just wasn't the right time. Now however, things are different. I have the freedom to take things as they need to in order to do it right.
Back to people. This portrait session changed my outlook entirely. Before, I eschewed doing portraits, not because I didn't like them, but because I didn't think I could make it work for us given my limitations (no vehicle or plans to get one and hubby's travelling makes booking dates difficult for me since I really can't afford any childcare right now).
This session was last minute. We had originally been planning on the 14th (K's birthday) since hubby was home from his second trip to Chicago, and he could watch K. But weather is fickle here. When you get good weather you better pounce on it! So on the 5th I get a text from my friend. "Can you do Sunday?" Gulp. The weather was supposed to be gorgeous. Hubby was leaving on Saturday.
Now I had another friend who had offered to watch K if something came up ever. So a mad series of texts later and I established that, yes I had someone to watch K and yes I could do Sunday. I had already sent her the pricing list I spent a long time working on (and was happy with).
Everything came together in ways I just hadn't expected and on that day, I was a bit nervous, so I left home early and walked through the park where we would be doing the shoot so I could do some shooting without any pressure and just relax. It worked.
By the time I arrived, they were almost ready and I was cheerful and as prepared as I was going to be. I had done some previous research into poses for families and had a good idea about what I wanted to achieve.
It was amazing! No, it wasn't a flawless shoot. It was a family of four with a 2.5 year old and a 10 month old, so there were tantrums and fidgeting and most 'posing' didn't work. I went with it, never once feeling stressed. I trusted my gut, double checked myself and and did what I had to do. We took breaks when we needed to for the kids and really, having a three year old, I could sympathize.
Best of all was when I was uploading the images. Watching them appear, I was holding my breath and then I had to laugh at myself because they were better than I had imagined! In editing, I instinctively went for a certain style, which means not only do I know what my style is, but I'm being consistent about it. (sort of important for a professional!)
Bu then came the sales session where I got to show them their images. Boy was I nervous. Would they love them? Hate them? They only wanted one image they could give to their families for Christmas. I had a sneaking suspicion (and hope) that it would be a tough choice.
They loved them. One of my favourites was one alone of her. She hates images of herself alone, but I saw this one and said to myself, "She's so pretty!" In the session, I told her as much. "Look how beautiful you are here!" The look on her husband's face told me he agreed!
The next step came ordering prints. After a couple missteps (won't make those mistakes again!), I had prints in my hand to give to her. Yes, I was nervous again. I was doubting myself, because at the end of the day, I am my own worst critic and I critique my images far more harshly than most people will. It was very easy to bring myself down.
Yesterday, I was going through the archives on a photography blog I love, and came across a vlog series on starting a photography business. The final one spoke to me in a real way and made me stop and think about why I was doubting myself and trying to see my work through the eyes of others. When I handed over the prints, my friend really liked them, and once again confirmed they would be ordering more with their families. That's huge!
I keep coming back to that session in my head and realizing that I was absolutely in my element. I have a lot to learn, but this is a part of what I want to do. I know small groups (families, couples etc.) are my niche. I can't, and won't do, weddings for the sheer stress and the fact that my chronic illness would hate me for it.
The details are coming together, and what I've realized is that as much as I desperately want to jump in with both feet, it's not an inexpensive profession! The start up costs are significant (at least for my husband and I who are living on the edge). Baby steps are needed here. It will come together, but I need to be patient.
Though, try telling inspiration to be patient. It's not as easy as it seems.
I just had mine.
Or at least, one of a couple I've had in my life so far. This time though, it's not just an agent of change but one that compliments the track my mind was on anyway.
I've done a few different jobs before. I've done food service, worked as a receptionist at various places for years, been an event planner, admin assistant and project manager. I've chaired meetings and co-chaired committees.
In all the work I've done, there are two things I've come to understand about myself in my life circumstances:
1. I need to work with people.
2. I need to work for myself.
Number two I instinctively understood after I became a stay-at-home mom. Working as I had been before was insanely stressful and not good for my health. And the thought of returning to the office work world was not something I cared for.
Now, as I've been talking about for awhile, I have been working towards making photography a source of income for me, moving from amateur to professional. Being self-taught means it's a long process and sometimes a frustrating one, but I really do love it. I can (and do) spend hours reading and immersing myself in educating myself. Putting it into practice is another thing, and while most of the time I can, equipment limitations mean I simply can't go out and 'try' what I've just learned. Inevitably I'll have to re-read that part again when I do get the equipment, but for now I'm enjoying the learning. It's like being in school without the exams and stress.
At some point, I'll actually pay for my continuing education too. I have my eye not only on some amazing online resources for photography and the business of, but also taking workshops and classes here and there to really get to work on some new skills.
So, we come back to my two points earlier above. What about number two in all of that? Well, as it happens, my epiphany happened earlier this month when a friend asked me to do some photos of her family before they moved back to the States. She would pay me for them.
Insert nervous smile.
Now, I love taking pictures of people. One of my favourites (that don't include my daughter) is one of my one of bosses at a golf tournament. He was chatting with a group of friends and someone said something really funny. He clapped his hands together and threw his head back laughing. 'Click' went my shutter. It was a beautifully candid moment where you really got to see him. I treasure that photo even more now, because I can understand a lot about myself by the mere fact that I not only was aware enough to take the image, but that it meant something to myself and the rest of my colleagues. Because it was of someone we cared about. It moved me.
Now, I always wanted to be able to make photography my career, but it just wasn't the right time. Now however, things are different. I have the freedom to take things as they need to in order to do it right.
Back to people. This portrait session changed my outlook entirely. Before, I eschewed doing portraits, not because I didn't like them, but because I didn't think I could make it work for us given my limitations (no vehicle or plans to get one and hubby's travelling makes booking dates difficult for me since I really can't afford any childcare right now).
This session was last minute. We had originally been planning on the 14th (K's birthday) since hubby was home from his second trip to Chicago, and he could watch K. But weather is fickle here. When you get good weather you better pounce on it! So on the 5th I get a text from my friend. "Can you do Sunday?" Gulp. The weather was supposed to be gorgeous. Hubby was leaving on Saturday.
Now I had another friend who had offered to watch K if something came up ever. So a mad series of texts later and I established that, yes I had someone to watch K and yes I could do Sunday. I had already sent her the pricing list I spent a long time working on (and was happy with).
Everything came together in ways I just hadn't expected and on that day, I was a bit nervous, so I left home early and walked through the park where we would be doing the shoot so I could do some shooting without any pressure and just relax. It worked.
By the time I arrived, they were almost ready and I was cheerful and as prepared as I was going to be. I had done some previous research into poses for families and had a good idea about what I wanted to achieve.
It was amazing! No, it wasn't a flawless shoot. It was a family of four with a 2.5 year old and a 10 month old, so there were tantrums and fidgeting and most 'posing' didn't work. I went with it, never once feeling stressed. I trusted my gut, double checked myself and and did what I had to do. We took breaks when we needed to for the kids and really, having a three year old, I could sympathize.
Best of all was when I was uploading the images. Watching them appear, I was holding my breath and then I had to laugh at myself because they were better than I had imagined! In editing, I instinctively went for a certain style, which means not only do I know what my style is, but I'm being consistent about it. (sort of important for a professional!)
Bu then came the sales session where I got to show them their images. Boy was I nervous. Would they love them? Hate them? They only wanted one image they could give to their families for Christmas. I had a sneaking suspicion (and hope) that it would be a tough choice.
They loved them. One of my favourites was one alone of her. She hates images of herself alone, but I saw this one and said to myself, "She's so pretty!" In the session, I told her as much. "Look how beautiful you are here!" The look on her husband's face told me he agreed!
The next step came ordering prints. After a couple missteps (won't make those mistakes again!), I had prints in my hand to give to her. Yes, I was nervous again. I was doubting myself, because at the end of the day, I am my own worst critic and I critique my images far more harshly than most people will. It was very easy to bring myself down.
Yesterday, I was going through the archives on a photography blog I love, and came across a vlog series on starting a photography business. The final one spoke to me in a real way and made me stop and think about why I was doubting myself and trying to see my work through the eyes of others. When I handed over the prints, my friend really liked them, and once again confirmed they would be ordering more with their families. That's huge!
I keep coming back to that session in my head and realizing that I was absolutely in my element. I have a lot to learn, but this is a part of what I want to do. I know small groups (families, couples etc.) are my niche. I can't, and won't do, weddings for the sheer stress and the fact that my chronic illness would hate me for it.
The details are coming together, and what I've realized is that as much as I desperately want to jump in with both feet, it's not an inexpensive profession! The start up costs are significant (at least for my husband and I who are living on the edge). Baby steps are needed here. It will come together, but I need to be patient.
Though, try telling inspiration to be patient. It's not as easy as it seems.
Monday, October 22, 2012
And Then She Sighed
There have been many days in the last few weeks where I silent scream in my head, "Really? Seriously?" Yes, it's been that up and down for us and I have to admit to being rather tired of it all. But, the only way to cope it is to accept it and move on.
Or so I try.
The ever present uncertainty about what the next one to three years will look like for us is a significant piece of this, but I've come to realize a major point of growth: uncertainty is not stressing me out like it used to. Yes, I get irked, and even angry, but then I know that in much of that it's all out of my hands and there is nothing to do but wait for decisions to be made and information to be passed our way. And rather than tears or angry, I just sigh.
I find sighs lovely. Rather than an active action, it's a release, an exhale. It's an expressive way to admit that something is worthy of a reaction but that you just need let it go. More and more I'm beginning to not comment on a sigh as if it needs to be evaluated and just accept the gesture for it it is.
This of course is different than the forced sighs of someone trying to get another's attention. For me there is a difference when it's simply an instinctual reaction. Received bad news? Sigh. Feeling tired? Sigh.
Sighs don't have to be negative either. We can attach so many different emotions to a sigh and it's meaning changes entirely. Ever sighed in contentment? When I do, there is the slight smile on my face, a hint at the joy of something. Most often, contented feelings that trigger a sigh like that come from the simplest things.
My favourite has occurred several times today: K comes over wanting a brief snuggle. She leans into me with her arms open and I scoop her up into my lap. We hug, and my hand slowly rubs her back while I inhale her scent and kiss her head.
Sigh.
Or so I try.
The ever present uncertainty about what the next one to three years will look like for us is a significant piece of this, but I've come to realize a major point of growth: uncertainty is not stressing me out like it used to. Yes, I get irked, and even angry, but then I know that in much of that it's all out of my hands and there is nothing to do but wait for decisions to be made and information to be passed our way. And rather than tears or angry, I just sigh.
I find sighs lovely. Rather than an active action, it's a release, an exhale. It's an expressive way to admit that something is worthy of a reaction but that you just need let it go. More and more I'm beginning to not comment on a sigh as if it needs to be evaluated and just accept the gesture for it it is.
This of course is different than the forced sighs of someone trying to get another's attention. For me there is a difference when it's simply an instinctual reaction. Received bad news? Sigh. Feeling tired? Sigh.
Sighs don't have to be negative either. We can attach so many different emotions to a sigh and it's meaning changes entirely. Ever sighed in contentment? When I do, there is the slight smile on my face, a hint at the joy of something. Most often, contented feelings that trigger a sigh like that come from the simplest things.
My favourite has occurred several times today: K comes over wanting a brief snuggle. She leans into me with her arms open and I scoop her up into my lap. We hug, and my hand slowly rubs her back while I inhale her scent and kiss her head.
Sigh.
Friday, October 12, 2012
When Every Penny (or Pence) Counts
Maybe it's just me, but I have this assumption that if I think ahead and to try to do things that will help my situation, that things will work out, that the road will be just a little less bumpy.
Things have been really tight financially for us lately. Like dipping into our overdraft tight. I hate overdraft but I am so happy we have the leeway so that we can pick up the few essentials when that last painful week of the month draws upon us and we find ourselves broke and needing to buy diapers and milk.
Ever cried over spilled milk? I have. The saying is stupid. At least for me in that moment! When your toddler thinks that milk and juice are fun toys to play with and then spills it everywhere and you realize you don't have any more in the house... well, you feel like crying.
It's not usually this bad for us. But the last few months have been complicated by our mind-boggling complicated tax status. We may live in the UK, but we're still tied to Canada and fall under Canadian taxes and benefits. Fine. But because we're over here and not living in Canada, a lot of the things that we could do to free up a few dollars here and there can't be done because there is this giant body of water called the Atlantic Ocean between us.
But no worries, I am a budgeting extraordinaire! I can take any budget and work it out so that we cover all our bills and still eat decent food. It is a bonus that I can cook and we rarely eat out. Every penny counts after all.
The thing about budgets is that they fail to account for one important thing: people. People make choices. People have bad days and really don't want to cook. People want to do more than stick around their neighbourhood and need to take public transportation to get out! People have small children who grow out of their clothes and shoes faster than you can blink.
So I've changed the way we budget. I no longer budget food per week, but per month. I have a running total and balance left on that category (which is what I do for a couple other categories as well), and keep track of how much we're spending. Last month was the first month I did this and it worked and didn't work. Why didn't it? Because inevitably there is something that we didn't know to account for.
We need leeway. I do believe that would be called savings. Hmmm, so far, no luck on that one.
There are solutions and we're trying very hard to make things work better for us. When I get it all figured out, I'll let you know. Meanwhile, I'm happy to hear your tips for stretching your budget when you have little storage space and no vehicle to easily shop around (ie. we order groceries online or shop around on foot... carrying groceries home). Keep in mind that we do buy store brand stuff where it makes sense to and try very hard not eat too much processed food.
Things have been really tight financially for us lately. Like dipping into our overdraft tight. I hate overdraft but I am so happy we have the leeway so that we can pick up the few essentials when that last painful week of the month draws upon us and we find ourselves broke and needing to buy diapers and milk.
Ever cried over spilled milk? I have. The saying is stupid. At least for me in that moment! When your toddler thinks that milk and juice are fun toys to play with and then spills it everywhere and you realize you don't have any more in the house... well, you feel like crying.
It's not usually this bad for us. But the last few months have been complicated by our mind-boggling complicated tax status. We may live in the UK, but we're still tied to Canada and fall under Canadian taxes and benefits. Fine. But because we're over here and not living in Canada, a lot of the things that we could do to free up a few dollars here and there can't be done because there is this giant body of water called the Atlantic Ocean between us.
But no worries, I am a budgeting extraordinaire! I can take any budget and work it out so that we cover all our bills and still eat decent food. It is a bonus that I can cook and we rarely eat out. Every penny counts after all.
The thing about budgets is that they fail to account for one important thing: people. People make choices. People have bad days and really don't want to cook. People want to do more than stick around their neighbourhood and need to take public transportation to get out! People have small children who grow out of their clothes and shoes faster than you can blink.
So I've changed the way we budget. I no longer budget food per week, but per month. I have a running total and balance left on that category (which is what I do for a couple other categories as well), and keep track of how much we're spending. Last month was the first month I did this and it worked and didn't work. Why didn't it? Because inevitably there is something that we didn't know to account for.
We need leeway. I do believe that would be called savings. Hmmm, so far, no luck on that one.
There are solutions and we're trying very hard to make things work better for us. When I get it all figured out, I'll let you know. Meanwhile, I'm happy to hear your tips for stretching your budget when you have little storage space and no vehicle to easily shop around (ie. we order groceries online or shop around on foot... carrying groceries home). Keep in mind that we do buy store brand stuff where it makes sense to and try very hard not eat too much processed food.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Birthday Planning
It's two weeks till my little girl's third birthday. I still haven't the faintest idea what to do! I'm doing the should I or shouldn't I debate that inevitably means I end up doing something last minute. Though, to eb fair, I had to wait till yesterday for pay day to arrive and see what our financial situation is. Slightly better than I was expecting but still not as comfortable as I would like. More on that later.
For now though I need to decide what to do about her birthday. She's old enough now that she actually has friends and even tries to say their names! While her word count is increasing, they are still single syllable, single sound words. But that is something. To hear her call out to a friend 'Oll' (for Oliver) is just abut the cutest thing she can do. Well maybe not. Sometimes (when she's not throwing a tantrum) she is pretty darn irresistibly cute!
If we do go for a party, it will be small (we only have room for so many people!) and hope that maybe the weather will be alright so they can go outside to blow bubbles or something.
Which of course has my mind going like crazy when I get a burst of inspiration!
So many possibilities, so little time and money. But considering I did my husband's surprise party (photos still to come!) for fairly cheap, I think I can pull this off!
Wish me luck...
For now though I need to decide what to do about her birthday. She's old enough now that she actually has friends and even tries to say their names! While her word count is increasing, they are still single syllable, single sound words. But that is something. To hear her call out to a friend 'Oll' (for Oliver) is just abut the cutest thing she can do. Well maybe not. Sometimes (when she's not throwing a tantrum) she is pretty darn irresistibly cute!
If we do go for a party, it will be small (we only have room for so many people!) and hope that maybe the weather will be alright so they can go outside to blow bubbles or something.
Which of course has my mind going like crazy when I get a burst of inspiration!
So many possibilities, so little time and money. But considering I did my husband's surprise party (photos still to come!) for fairly cheap, I think I can pull this off!
Wish me luck...
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Yes, I Love You Even More
Five years.
It seems so much longer than that! In actually fact, that is in part because we've known each other and been together for nine years. I know it's a drop in the bucket compared to some, but when i consider all that we have been through in those years alone, I am astonished!
I was joking with a friend and her husband that I try not too look too closely at any one year because it's rather overwhelming. And most of the time I would say it's treu. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm reflective about things, but I'm in a place where one major events seems to run into another, so the division from one year to another seems arbitrary in the same way that as a stay at home mom I really don't have a "weekend". Sure it's a little different, but not remarkably so that it needs a different name.
However, the fall has always been my 'new year'. My birthday is in September, as is our wedding anniversary. Baby Girl's birthday is in October. And of course, school starts in the fall- early September in Canada.
I feel more productive come September, as if I really do start a new year now rather than in the dreary month of January. Having spent most of my life in a place with rather wet winters, Januarys tend to be grey and damp. Where are you supposed to find renewed energy in all of that?
Today, five years ago, I married an amazing man. A man that, truthfully, doesn't know how amazing he is and whom I have to think up new ways to show me that.
We've come along way! Through commuting 5 hours to see each in the early stages of our relationship when we lived in different cities, to living together for the first time (my first time being away from home!), my spiral down into being diagnosed with Fibromyaglia, my recovery and also coping with anxiety, depression and panic attacks, finishing his master, my going back to school, getting married, my leaving school so we could start a family, two miscarriages (and a major bump in mariage as a result), a third pregnancy and birth(!), completing his PhD, the stress of having no work and giving up our home, living with family to keep a roof over our heads, getting a job overseas, being apart for several months while we waited for visas, moving overseas, and tackling the challenges that being away from home presents.
We are lucky. We have so much, and we have each other. Not every day is prefect, and help us of we're both feeling down on the same day, butI wouldn't trade it for anything.
I am more and less because of him, in that I as an individual person is less important than the amazing combination of us as a team. We became more together. We are still two people, with our own fears, and hopes and dreams, but we're stronger and smarter together. I didn't think it would be possible to love someone more years later, but I do. I am humbled.
And we have a happy little girl who amazes us to no end, even on the days we want to curl up and hide.
Life is crazy, and yet in all of that, the most important things are simple and true: that love can't fix everything, but it does provide answers when you least expect it, and that one person is okay, but sharing your life with another reminds you are never alone, that someone will be there for you every step of the way.
Ironic that today he is overseas for work. I still don't feel alone.
Happy Anniversary Love.
It seems so much longer than that! In actually fact, that is in part because we've known each other and been together for nine years. I know it's a drop in the bucket compared to some, but when i consider all that we have been through in those years alone, I am astonished!
I was joking with a friend and her husband that I try not too look too closely at any one year because it's rather overwhelming. And most of the time I would say it's treu. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm reflective about things, but I'm in a place where one major events seems to run into another, so the division from one year to another seems arbitrary in the same way that as a stay at home mom I really don't have a "weekend". Sure it's a little different, but not remarkably so that it needs a different name.
However, the fall has always been my 'new year'. My birthday is in September, as is our wedding anniversary. Baby Girl's birthday is in October. And of course, school starts in the fall- early September in Canada.
I feel more productive come September, as if I really do start a new year now rather than in the dreary month of January. Having spent most of my life in a place with rather wet winters, Januarys tend to be grey and damp. Where are you supposed to find renewed energy in all of that?
Today, five years ago, I married an amazing man. A man that, truthfully, doesn't know how amazing he is and whom I have to think up new ways to show me that.
We've come along way! Through commuting 5 hours to see each in the early stages of our relationship when we lived in different cities, to living together for the first time (my first time being away from home!), my spiral down into being diagnosed with Fibromyaglia, my recovery and also coping with anxiety, depression and panic attacks, finishing his master, my going back to school, getting married, my leaving school so we could start a family, two miscarriages (and a major bump in mariage as a result), a third pregnancy and birth(!), completing his PhD, the stress of having no work and giving up our home, living with family to keep a roof over our heads, getting a job overseas, being apart for several months while we waited for visas, moving overseas, and tackling the challenges that being away from home presents.
We are lucky. We have so much, and we have each other. Not every day is prefect, and help us of we're both feeling down on the same day, butI wouldn't trade it for anything.
I am more and less because of him, in that I as an individual person is less important than the amazing combination of us as a team. We became more together. We are still two people, with our own fears, and hopes and dreams, but we're stronger and smarter together. I didn't think it would be possible to love someone more years later, but I do. I am humbled.
And we have a happy little girl who amazes us to no end, even on the days we want to curl up and hide.
Life is crazy, and yet in all of that, the most important things are simple and true: that love can't fix everything, but it does provide answers when you least expect it, and that one person is okay, but sharing your life with another reminds you are never alone, that someone will be there for you every step of the way.
Ironic that today he is overseas for work. I still don't feel alone.
Happy Anniversary Love.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
An Ideal Body: Lessons for a Healthy Life
We've had our WiiFit for over two years. My mom gave us the balance board (we had the Wii already) because it wasn't ideal for her. At that point I was knee deep in PPD and needed exercise, but wasn't able to get out and do so. I used it for awhile, but it was often set aside for a run/walk outside when I got up to being able to. I like the fresh air!
These days, it's my husband who uses it regularly. Almost daily in fact, and given that he works in an office all day, when you combine his workouts (and all the strength training in it) along with his short walk to and from work, he's been losing weight right along with me.
We're both much healthier than we used to be!
I'm about 10 pounds from my 'goal' weight. I use goal loosely because as I started losing significant weight and watched my shape change I could see how much work there still was to do to arrive at a strong body with a healthy amount of body fat.
Strong is the key word here. I'm not strong, not really at all. Baby girl isn't a baby anymore and she's over 13kg. That's a lot to carry around and it's hard on my body. So I have stopped doing that. I'll note that she gets my hubby to do so, and she still doesn't want to walk very far most of the time. So when it's just her and I, most days she goes into the stroller and I walk briskly. Great for cardio and my legs, not so much for my neglected upper body. As of today I can only do two pushups. It's sad and something I am changing.
When I lost weight the first time after being diagnosed with fibromyalgia, I was enrolled at a gym and working with a personal trainer. I really couldn't afford it, but this was a very serious situation and I was determined to not be one who gave into to the disease and let it control my life any more than it already had. I was too young (23)! And that's not a criticism on others who suffer horribly from it, but at that point I hadn't been dealing with the symptoms for too long and I had a chance to overcome fibro. I took it. Along with stress management, it worked!
I don't have the luxury of a gym these days. But boy do I miss the equipment. Even back home I had some light dumbbells I could use. I've tried using things like soup cans here, but it's not enough and hard for my hands to hold. In the discount store (TK Maxx here, TJ Maxx in the US, Winners in Canada), I saw the perfect solution! Soft neoprene weights with a 'handle' that you slipped your hand into while holding the weight. They were easy to grip, conformed to my hand and I couldn't drop them. I saw them twice but couldn't buy them at the time. I went back with money in hand and sure enough they no longer had them. Damn! I'm still on the hunt for an inexpensive pair (the ones I saw were 3lbs each and only cast £7).
I yearn for that strong body because it was resistent to injury and I was sick less. Very clearly my immune system prefers me to be fit and strong. Funny that...
While working out on the WiiFit, there's a part in the yoga and strength training sections (I can only do the ones that don't require my hands on the board as it hurts too much), the 'trainer' tells you to picture your ideal body.
Easier said than done! What's ideal anyway? How do you even gauge that when you are first starting out? I think for most women who are overweight, picturing some skinny person with a flat stomach who clearly hasn't had children or dealt with stretch marks and cellulite is rather self-defeating. After all, they aren't you! So how do you begin to imagine yourself smaller?
I think it's a fairly accepted fact that when you are overweight and then lose a significant amount, your brain can have a hard time adapting and actually seeing yourself as being smaller, trimmer. Our clothes shrink and we know we're smaller but we can't convince ourselves of it.
I weighed myself two days ago. 26 pounds lost since July 2011 and I've finally moved from the 'overweight' category according to BMI, into 'Normal'. I know it's all relative, but considering I started out in the 'obese' category, this is no small feat! It was my first goal in all of this and one I'm very proud of.
But I'm still struggling to see myself in my new slimmer body as actually being as trim as it is. I've dropped 3 sizes and yet, clothes still don't fit me as well as I would like. I had a baby. I know at some point I just have to suck up the fact that my body will never be the same, but at the same time, I know with a bit of work those last ten pounds will result in a stronger body. And that is the most important thing here, right?
* * * * *
I just paused a couple minutes in writing this post. Subtle topic change now:
My nearly three year old grabbed my hand and made me get up to dance with her. The show she was watching had music on and she wanted to dance! With me!
Baby girl loves it when Ryan does the Wii. So much so that she actually directs his workouts most mornings by pointing at the screen to the ones she wants him to do. Sure, it can be annoying somedays and she really is a little slave driver, but we are so excited that she sees exercise as something fun and there is no way in hell we're going to discourage it!
This brief interlude in writing served two purposes: one, I paused, got up and made sure to move a little so that my perpetual sitting doesn't aggravate my fibro; and so much more importantly, two, baby girl reminded me that regardless of how I look, how I choose to treat my body (and mind) matters! Our example has a profound affect on her actions, especially right now when she imitates everything. If my husband and I can teach her to be respectful and loving to her body, to treat food with respect, and to value exercise and being healthy, I think we've accomplished something so very important.
The wonderful side-affect too is that we will continue to be healthier and more active, not just for her, but for ourselves too.
Now those are family values I can get behind!
* * * * *
Before Pic:
Current:
*Slight disclaimer: Sort of hard to really compare, since the before pic isn't me standing and it's cropped from a photo back at Christmas 2010. It's the best I have. And that denim skirt I'm wearing in my current pic is awesome to my body. So stretchy and it sucks me in. Not the perfect comparison, but I think you get the idea. A second note: that grey sweater looks like a bag on me now! I've finally committed it to the donate pile that's growing...
These days, it's my husband who uses it regularly. Almost daily in fact, and given that he works in an office all day, when you combine his workouts (and all the strength training in it) along with his short walk to and from work, he's been losing weight right along with me.
We're both much healthier than we used to be!
I'm about 10 pounds from my 'goal' weight. I use goal loosely because as I started losing significant weight and watched my shape change I could see how much work there still was to do to arrive at a strong body with a healthy amount of body fat.
Strong is the key word here. I'm not strong, not really at all. Baby girl isn't a baby anymore and she's over 13kg. That's a lot to carry around and it's hard on my body. So I have stopped doing that. I'll note that she gets my hubby to do so, and she still doesn't want to walk very far most of the time. So when it's just her and I, most days she goes into the stroller and I walk briskly. Great for cardio and my legs, not so much for my neglected upper body. As of today I can only do two pushups. It's sad and something I am changing.
When I lost weight the first time after being diagnosed with fibromyalgia, I was enrolled at a gym and working with a personal trainer. I really couldn't afford it, but this was a very serious situation and I was determined to not be one who gave into to the disease and let it control my life any more than it already had. I was too young (23)! And that's not a criticism on others who suffer horribly from it, but at that point I hadn't been dealing with the symptoms for too long and I had a chance to overcome fibro. I took it. Along with stress management, it worked!
I don't have the luxury of a gym these days. But boy do I miss the equipment. Even back home I had some light dumbbells I could use. I've tried using things like soup cans here, but it's not enough and hard for my hands to hold. In the discount store (TK Maxx here, TJ Maxx in the US, Winners in Canada), I saw the perfect solution! Soft neoprene weights with a 'handle' that you slipped your hand into while holding the weight. They were easy to grip, conformed to my hand and I couldn't drop them. I saw them twice but couldn't buy them at the time. I went back with money in hand and sure enough they no longer had them. Damn! I'm still on the hunt for an inexpensive pair (the ones I saw were 3lbs each and only cast £7).
I yearn for that strong body because it was resistent to injury and I was sick less. Very clearly my immune system prefers me to be fit and strong. Funny that...
While working out on the WiiFit, there's a part in the yoga and strength training sections (I can only do the ones that don't require my hands on the board as it hurts too much), the 'trainer' tells you to picture your ideal body.
Easier said than done! What's ideal anyway? How do you even gauge that when you are first starting out? I think for most women who are overweight, picturing some skinny person with a flat stomach who clearly hasn't had children or dealt with stretch marks and cellulite is rather self-defeating. After all, they aren't you! So how do you begin to imagine yourself smaller?
I think it's a fairly accepted fact that when you are overweight and then lose a significant amount, your brain can have a hard time adapting and actually seeing yourself as being smaller, trimmer. Our clothes shrink and we know we're smaller but we can't convince ourselves of it.
I weighed myself two days ago. 26 pounds lost since July 2011 and I've finally moved from the 'overweight' category according to BMI, into 'Normal'. I know it's all relative, but considering I started out in the 'obese' category, this is no small feat! It was my first goal in all of this and one I'm very proud of.
But I'm still struggling to see myself in my new slimmer body as actually being as trim as it is. I've dropped 3 sizes and yet, clothes still don't fit me as well as I would like. I had a baby. I know at some point I just have to suck up the fact that my body will never be the same, but at the same time, I know with a bit of work those last ten pounds will result in a stronger body. And that is the most important thing here, right?
* * * * *
I just paused a couple minutes in writing this post. Subtle topic change now:
My nearly three year old grabbed my hand and made me get up to dance with her. The show she was watching had music on and she wanted to dance! With me!
Baby girl loves it when Ryan does the Wii. So much so that she actually directs his workouts most mornings by pointing at the screen to the ones she wants him to do. Sure, it can be annoying somedays and she really is a little slave driver, but we are so excited that she sees exercise as something fun and there is no way in hell we're going to discourage it!
This brief interlude in writing served two purposes: one, I paused, got up and made sure to move a little so that my perpetual sitting doesn't aggravate my fibro; and so much more importantly, two, baby girl reminded me that regardless of how I look, how I choose to treat my body (and mind) matters! Our example has a profound affect on her actions, especially right now when she imitates everything. If my husband and I can teach her to be respectful and loving to her body, to treat food with respect, and to value exercise and being healthy, I think we've accomplished something so very important.
The wonderful side-affect too is that we will continue to be healthier and more active, not just for her, but for ourselves too.
Now those are family values I can get behind!
* * * * *
Before Pic:
Current:
*Slight disclaimer: Sort of hard to really compare, since the before pic isn't me standing and it's cropped from a photo back at Christmas 2010. It's the best I have. And that denim skirt I'm wearing in my current pic is awesome to my body. So stretchy and it sucks me in. Not the perfect comparison, but I think you get the idea. A second note: that grey sweater looks like a bag on me now! I've finally committed it to the donate pile that's growing...
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Valuing Dreams
I talked before on my old blog about dreams and being realistic, while still giving yourself something to aim for. I think this whole thing is taking a rather interesting turn for us now that we're reapplying for our work visas again. In fact, our documents should be at the office any minute now! While the website claims they're only processing applications from July 17th, they've been saying that for almost a week, so I'm of a mind to think they don't update the wait time very often. Besides, our visas expire Sept. 21st, so they better be on top of it!
No sooner than we were gathering everything together to apply for this next stint here in the UK (3 years, 5 months), than we were starting to think beyond that. Scary, right? I mean, to date, we've tried to not think about after any given scenario until we're in the year it shows up. Now, that being said, I've always been a planner. I like to look at scenarios and see how they could work out so that I can get an idea about what appeals to me and see how would be required to make that happen.
We've been talking about what we want after this job posting is over. Hubby's career (who is notable shocked to discover he in fact does have a career), is going really well and he's been working on several projects on top of the one he's paid to do. Ahh, yes, free labour. But then again, these are just proposals and likely won't come to anything.
Except for one.
That one project has great potential and is getting people in his field excited! If it gets funding (always the big if in science), it likely will be just getting going when he's done his current posting. This means, drumroll... we very probably will end up back in North America. We're determined to go home though, and are looking at the options of being back in Canada. So far, the possibilities are quite open depending on where hubby wants to work. He'd likely take a teaching position at a university or college and commute to the project site when he needed to.
In looking at housing prices to remember how crazy they were, we casted a wider net and looked at a location we knew had a great chance of a job for him. For the same price as a small 2 bedroom apartment in Vancouver, we can get in this other place, get this... an entire 3 bedroom house with a large yard! And people there think their housing prices are crazy, lol. I will grant that equivalent salaries do always play a part in cost of living, but Vancouver is still crazy expensive in comparison, hands down.
And yet, despite that fact, I look at the areas I love in that city, including ones we've already lived in, and sigh longingly. There's just something special about it that I can't quite shrug off, no matter that I'm looking at $600 more in rent a month for one less bedroom.
It's something to keep in mind as we continue to look at adding a second child to our family. Finances have been tight for us, and until I'm bringing in significant income, it wont change.
So it begs the question, what price are you willing to pay for lifestyle? If you choose a place for lifestyle, especially when raising a family, what are you willing to do or give up? Do you work more? Live in a smaller place? Give up on buying a home and accept that you'll be renters most of your life?
More importantly becomes the consideration of money and how much is enough. If you can make ends meet, pay off your debts (better yet, be debt free) and put some savings away, but don't own a home or car, and don't go on lots of vacations, but are content in your daily life, is that enough?
I think it comes down to priorities and doing what makes you happy. It's so easy to get caught up in accumulating things. But when you live with a lot less, you realize that you can in fact live on less and that those other things you'd probably like to have, you can do without.
We have our dream life in the back of minds and I think we'll always be striving for that, but, in the meantime we're learning to be content with where we are at. It can be stressful and difficult at times, but at the end of the day, I know that we have it pretty good in life and there is much to be grateful for.
Meanwhile I'll be eyeing housing prices both back in Canada and for our pending move south into England next year with a slightly wistful, if realistic eye.
No sooner than we were gathering everything together to apply for this next stint here in the UK (3 years, 5 months), than we were starting to think beyond that. Scary, right? I mean, to date, we've tried to not think about after any given scenario until we're in the year it shows up. Now, that being said, I've always been a planner. I like to look at scenarios and see how they could work out so that I can get an idea about what appeals to me and see how would be required to make that happen.
We've been talking about what we want after this job posting is over. Hubby's career (who is notable shocked to discover he in fact does have a career), is going really well and he's been working on several projects on top of the one he's paid to do. Ahh, yes, free labour. But then again, these are just proposals and likely won't come to anything.
Except for one.
That one project has great potential and is getting people in his field excited! If it gets funding (always the big if in science), it likely will be just getting going when he's done his current posting. This means, drumroll... we very probably will end up back in North America. We're determined to go home though, and are looking at the options of being back in Canada. So far, the possibilities are quite open depending on where hubby wants to work. He'd likely take a teaching position at a university or college and commute to the project site when he needed to.
In looking at housing prices to remember how crazy they were, we casted a wider net and looked at a location we knew had a great chance of a job for him. For the same price as a small 2 bedroom apartment in Vancouver, we can get in this other place, get this... an entire 3 bedroom house with a large yard! And people there think their housing prices are crazy, lol. I will grant that equivalent salaries do always play a part in cost of living, but Vancouver is still crazy expensive in comparison, hands down.
And yet, despite that fact, I look at the areas I love in that city, including ones we've already lived in, and sigh longingly. There's just something special about it that I can't quite shrug off, no matter that I'm looking at $600 more in rent a month for one less bedroom.
It's something to keep in mind as we continue to look at adding a second child to our family. Finances have been tight for us, and until I'm bringing in significant income, it wont change.
So it begs the question, what price are you willing to pay for lifestyle? If you choose a place for lifestyle, especially when raising a family, what are you willing to do or give up? Do you work more? Live in a smaller place? Give up on buying a home and accept that you'll be renters most of your life?
More importantly becomes the consideration of money and how much is enough. If you can make ends meet, pay off your debts (better yet, be debt free) and put some savings away, but don't own a home or car, and don't go on lots of vacations, but are content in your daily life, is that enough?
I think it comes down to priorities and doing what makes you happy. It's so easy to get caught up in accumulating things. But when you live with a lot less, you realize that you can in fact live on less and that those other things you'd probably like to have, you can do without.
We have our dream life in the back of minds and I think we'll always be striving for that, but, in the meantime we're learning to be content with where we are at. It can be stressful and difficult at times, but at the end of the day, I know that we have it pretty good in life and there is much to be grateful for.
Meanwhile I'll be eyeing housing prices both back in Canada and for our pending move south into England next year with a slightly wistful, if realistic eye.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Relief
I'm hardly the first person to have a spouse who's a jet-setter, and not the first to be home alone with a child while the other is away, but for me it was definitely an adjustment. When my husband and I first started seeing each other, I knew that he would do some travelling. He usually is attending conferences, and at the time it was about two a year, mostly within Canada.
Anyone who travels knows it's expensive, and while his flight was usually arranged through work, the rest we had to pay up front and claim back later. It was never too much of an issue until we got to the UK.
His job has been super busy. He's a physicist and the list of projects he's now involved in has grown from when he first arrived in Scotland. This translates into more work meetings and conferences, which when your collaboration is an international group, means you're off to this place and that quite frequently. He probably travels once a month, 6 months out of the year for the last year and a half or so, which equates to about 9 or 10 trips he's taken.
That's a lot when the bulk of your travel expenses (excluding flight) are paid out of your bank account. Ahhh the wonders that are debit/credit cards. They allow you the flexibility of booking/ordering online, but you have the finite amount of money that comes with a normal bank account. Now, while these aren't exactly new, they are to me.
Except when we're using our (very) limited disposable income to pay for his travel expenses. It resulted in some really tight months and a grocery budgeting exercise that left me wondering how we ate as well as we did on so little (much creativity needed). Thankfully, we've got our banking all sorted out (that's another post), and he now has a credit card that is used solely for travelling. Yay!
The first week long trips were difficult for me because I was acutely aware that I was alone in a strange country by myself. I still didn't know many people and since I had no access to our bank account, I was eyeing the cash we allotted for the week with a slight panic when I wondered what I'd do if something happened and I needed more, or if in some strange nightmarish scenario something happened to him and I had to somehow, uh, survive? Yes, there were some crazy thoughts that went through my head in my homesick depressed months when he was away. Eventually, we got into a rhythm with the travelling and I adjusted to being alone with my toddler 24/7.
This trip was a bit more difficult for me than usual. I was low on food and my new PIN for my debit card hadn't arrived. In a true comedy of errors, my online banking stuff arrived on Saturday, so I could order groceries online. Hubby was due home on Sunday and I knew after flying from the US back to Glasgow, he'd be tired and we'd not want to do the whole challenge of buying food and chasing after a toddler (who really dislikes being in her stroller in shops).
So I went to order and then really needed a nap, so finished afterwards. Problem with doing that was that I forgot to book the delivery and when I went back, there were non available on Sunday (or at least none before dinner). Damn. So I took off a bunch of stuff and then set the delivery for Monday, thining we could pick up the fresh essentials on Sunday. I managed to scrap together a decent dinner but the fridge was looking more bare than I'd like.
That night, hubby texted me to tell me that due to engine problems, his flight was cancelled.
Shit.
He was delayed 24 hours.
Which was why I was so glad that the online banking stuff had come. I ordered dinner from one of the take out places, and all was fine.
Well, almost. I was tired and it had been a long week. I was really missing him and that anticipation was deflated so quickly after I got that text. I was pretty upset for awhile before I went to bed, but calmed myself down since I knew I had another day to tackle before he was home.
Come Monday morning, hubby had two very happy people throwing their arms around him. It's the last trip for awhile, and now our attention is on renewing our Visas so we don't get kicked out of the country come September.
I find all these complications slowly grating on me and my patience. I want things straight forward, even if in execution they end up far more complicated. In the end though, you just have to go along with things, because fighting it can be a waste of energy and much needed sanity.
Anyone who travels knows it's expensive, and while his flight was usually arranged through work, the rest we had to pay up front and claim back later. It was never too much of an issue until we got to the UK.
His job has been super busy. He's a physicist and the list of projects he's now involved in has grown from when he first arrived in Scotland. This translates into more work meetings and conferences, which when your collaboration is an international group, means you're off to this place and that quite frequently. He probably travels once a month, 6 months out of the year for the last year and a half or so, which equates to about 9 or 10 trips he's taken.
That's a lot when the bulk of your travel expenses (excluding flight) are paid out of your bank account. Ahhh the wonders that are debit/credit cards. They allow you the flexibility of booking/ordering online, but you have the finite amount of money that comes with a normal bank account. Now, while these aren't exactly new, they are to me.
Except when we're using our (very) limited disposable income to pay for his travel expenses. It resulted in some really tight months and a grocery budgeting exercise that left me wondering how we ate as well as we did on so little (much creativity needed). Thankfully, we've got our banking all sorted out (that's another post), and he now has a credit card that is used solely for travelling. Yay!
The first week long trips were difficult for me because I was acutely aware that I was alone in a strange country by myself. I still didn't know many people and since I had no access to our bank account, I was eyeing the cash we allotted for the week with a slight panic when I wondered what I'd do if something happened and I needed more, or if in some strange nightmarish scenario something happened to him and I had to somehow, uh, survive? Yes, there were some crazy thoughts that went through my head in my homesick depressed months when he was away. Eventually, we got into a rhythm with the travelling and I adjusted to being alone with my toddler 24/7.
This trip was a bit more difficult for me than usual. I was low on food and my new PIN for my debit card hadn't arrived. In a true comedy of errors, my online banking stuff arrived on Saturday, so I could order groceries online. Hubby was due home on Sunday and I knew after flying from the US back to Glasgow, he'd be tired and we'd not want to do the whole challenge of buying food and chasing after a toddler (who really dislikes being in her stroller in shops).
So I went to order and then really needed a nap, so finished afterwards. Problem with doing that was that I forgot to book the delivery and when I went back, there were non available on Sunday (or at least none before dinner). Damn. So I took off a bunch of stuff and then set the delivery for Monday, thining we could pick up the fresh essentials on Sunday. I managed to scrap together a decent dinner but the fridge was looking more bare than I'd like.
That night, hubby texted me to tell me that due to engine problems, his flight was cancelled.
Shit.
He was delayed 24 hours.
Which was why I was so glad that the online banking stuff had come. I ordered dinner from one of the take out places, and all was fine.
Well, almost. I was tired and it had been a long week. I was really missing him and that anticipation was deflated so quickly after I got that text. I was pretty upset for awhile before I went to bed, but calmed myself down since I knew I had another day to tackle before he was home.
Come Monday morning, hubby had two very happy people throwing their arms around him. It's the last trip for awhile, and now our attention is on renewing our Visas so we don't get kicked out of the country come September.
I find all these complications slowly grating on me and my patience. I want things straight forward, even if in execution they end up far more complicated. In the end though, you just have to go along with things, because fighting it can be a waste of energy and much needed sanity.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Welcome
Ahhhh! Much better! I look around this new space and feel calm and relaxed. It's clean and new and ready for whatever I throw at it, which as we all know, could be about anything!
In deciding to start a new blog, I had to decide what I wanted that blog to be. I have to say that it was an incredibly refreshing and inspiring process! When I started my first blog, it was just this thing that everyone was doing. I liked writing, so it made sense to write in a space like that. But I had no idea what I was doing or what I wanted to say.
That that space became my outlet through a crazy journey to being a mother was really no accident. The way I see it, that was what that space was always meant to be.
But see, now I am a mother and all that pain and heartache (while it'll always still be there in the background reminding me of what I got through) is holding me back. I have a complicated life, or perhaps more to the point, I make things more complicated. Often though, it's not intentional, but if there's anything I've learned in the last year, it's that I really can do with less, and that yes, I can do very well on very little, provided I have a few key things.
This is what spurned the name of the new blog.
In May 2011, after 3 months apart and imposing on the generosity of our families while we had no where to live, my daughter and I finally joined my husband in the UK. Moving 7000 kilometres from Vancouver, Canada to Glasgow, Scotland was never something I ever actually believed could ever happen in my life. In the early days of our relationship, I knew that my husband (a particle physicist) would likely move around, and I, the person with a major travel bug, thought this was amazing. Several years later, after being diagnosed with a chronic pain condition, going through recurrent miscarriage and then a successful pregnancy, coping with depression (including post-partum depression) and anxiety, and raising a toddler, suddenly the thought of packing up our life and moving overseas seemed… well, insane.
Perhaps it was.
All I can say, is that over a year later, I have finally settled into life here in Scotland. I conquered my recently developed social anxiety (care of the PPD) and started to attend toddler groups. I now have friends here. Funny that.
There are lots of things I never got to share when I returned to blogging earlier this year, and I intend to get to those. For now, this space will also play host to my love of good food and my photography. It'll also focus on how to simplify life, or rather, how my life has been simplified and how living with less gives us more. It's a challenge, and the part of me that loves being in a beautiful space and having useful things wants to have it all now. But I'm also learning patience. It's not easy.
I also have a fun long-term project I'll be introducing to you very soon, so stay tuned. Meanwhile, spread the word and let people know that I've moved into new digs! I'm really excited about continuing this journey of mine here, with a little less baggage but a whole heck of a lot of lessons learned sitting in my back packet.
~Lindsay
In deciding to start a new blog, I had to decide what I wanted that blog to be. I have to say that it was an incredibly refreshing and inspiring process! When I started my first blog, it was just this thing that everyone was doing. I liked writing, so it made sense to write in a space like that. But I had no idea what I was doing or what I wanted to say.
That that space became my outlet through a crazy journey to being a mother was really no accident. The way I see it, that was what that space was always meant to be.
But see, now I am a mother and all that pain and heartache (while it'll always still be there in the background reminding me of what I got through) is holding me back. I have a complicated life, or perhaps more to the point, I make things more complicated. Often though, it's not intentional, but if there's anything I've learned in the last year, it's that I really can do with less, and that yes, I can do very well on very little, provided I have a few key things.
This is what spurned the name of the new blog.
In May 2011, after 3 months apart and imposing on the generosity of our families while we had no where to live, my daughter and I finally joined my husband in the UK. Moving 7000 kilometres from Vancouver, Canada to Glasgow, Scotland was never something I ever actually believed could ever happen in my life. In the early days of our relationship, I knew that my husband (a particle physicist) would likely move around, and I, the person with a major travel bug, thought this was amazing. Several years later, after being diagnosed with a chronic pain condition, going through recurrent miscarriage and then a successful pregnancy, coping with depression (including post-partum depression) and anxiety, and raising a toddler, suddenly the thought of packing up our life and moving overseas seemed… well, insane.
Perhaps it was.
All I can say, is that over a year later, I have finally settled into life here in Scotland. I conquered my recently developed social anxiety (care of the PPD) and started to attend toddler groups. I now have friends here. Funny that.
There are lots of things I never got to share when I returned to blogging earlier this year, and I intend to get to those. For now, this space will also play host to my love of good food and my photography. It'll also focus on how to simplify life, or rather, how my life has been simplified and how living with less gives us more. It's a challenge, and the part of me that loves being in a beautiful space and having useful things wants to have it all now. But I'm also learning patience. It's not easy.
I also have a fun long-term project I'll be introducing to you very soon, so stay tuned. Meanwhile, spread the word and let people know that I've moved into new digs! I'm really excited about continuing this journey of mine here, with a little less baggage but a whole heck of a lot of lessons learned sitting in my back packet.
~Lindsay
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