Pregnancy Hair

Pregnancy hair was one of the nicest things about pregnancy. So full, so soft, so much not needing washing ever...
It kindly lasts a few months after the birth...the not needing washing bit being particularly helpful!
Sadly, it is now at an end. My hair comes out in big handfuls and gets EVERYWHERE. I keep having to extract strands from Baby-boo's mouth. It makes showering a very lengthy process as I keep having to deal with all the hair tangled up in my fingers.
And now my hair is GRUMPY. and wants washing more than once a day. Which is doesn't get. I'm not getting enough sleep yet for a shower every day.
No fair.
(Thanks, I just needed to whinge about something not all that serious.)

So here's the pic of Baby-boo and the gym as promised. Action shot. Fuzzy...

It's all about me!

One of the things which was marvellous about our time in New Zealand (amongst a long list of things) was the amount of time I got to myself on a routine basis.

I am an introvert in the sense that my energy comes from time on my own. I like to be with people. I love meeting new people, sitting down with old friends for big chin wags, the occasional big party... I am very happy standing up in front of large numbers of people and speaking, leading, whatever... But if I don't get time on my own I break.

Husbink's work pattern in NZ meant that I had a lot of time to myself. I knitted. I baked. I read. I prayed. I cleaned. I thought. I wrote. I walked. I pottered. I cycled. I achieved.

I'm now at about the two month mark since we moved out of our house, started that last adventure and found ourselves back in the UK. In those two months, I've snatched an hour here, an hour there...but the cracks are more than beginning to show. Combine the lack of alone time with all the unknowns about the future and the like and I'm beginning to look like one hell of a crazy lady.

I don't like that this is the case. I don't mean I don't like that I'm going slightly mad, that should be obvious enough. What I mean is, I don't like that I have to be this "demanding". Husbink often makes jokes about me being high maintenance. The jokes relate to the whole preening aspect (my last hair cut was 9 months ago...I haven't bought shoes in about a year...my skincare routine is slapdash...) but in this respect, the alone time, the introversion, it is a very true statement. I really, really need it and if I don't get it, all kinds of hysterics ensue.

A few nights ago, we returned to Husbink's parent's after a few days in Scotland for Husbink's interview (we will not hear anything until March 26th at the earliest but it could be mid-end April). I thought the few days away would have boosted my coping ability a bit - I even had an hour and a half to myself while Husbink was at his interview. Instead it seems that that little taster of what I need was too much and I really shut down on return to a house with five people in it...the panic attack was barely below the surface and I really wasn't sure that my body could actually handle it. All I wanted to do, on a cold, wet, windy night, was sit in the garden by myself for hours and hours and hours. I've come out of it a little over the past few days and can hold conversations again. Just.

I feel desperately self-centred for being like this and it feels feeble to realise that one of the reasons I was so happy (and more to the point increasingly healthy (though clearly there were other things at play their too)) in NZ was all this time for me. How selfish can you get?!

I have managed to veer away from the impulse to run home to my mum (who I could then in no uncertain terms tell to leave me alone and only speak to me once a day) but it does feel like a very thin line I'm walking just now.

Downloading my brain

My brain is just a teensy weensy bit full at the moment with all the moving things and the Husbink job things (I haven't really mentioned this yet...but he will have to apply for the Big Next August jobs before we leave NZ rather than being home in time for applications as we had hoped. Also the jobs have changed. He'll only be applying to 2-3 years rather than 7. Which in some ways seems more manageable but means that life will continue to be precarious.) and so I needed to clear out various thoughts today. Thus quite a few posts. I hope that makes it more manageable than one Mahooooosive one.
Urgh, my brain hurts. And the day isn't over yet...

Emotionally Hungover

Yesterday evening went pearshaped.
A number of things contributed. We can't deny the old hormones. Or the general emotional upheaval of the moment. Or the earwig. Crawling on my black & white chocolate muffin.
On the whole, the emotion was that silly uncontrolable grump that only hormones can cause. I wrote a blog last night. I had just enough sense left to delete it. I also had just enough sense left in the hour or so spent trawling the internet (cos I was too upset to go to bed) to not throw my computer against the wall when I read various things that upset, infuriated or belittled me. I'm sure if I read those things today there would be no problem.
I ended up deciding it was safest not to stray into too many unknown territories at this point and started reading various "old things". Old emails, old blog entries. Eventually this did help me calm down enough to go and sit on Husbink's knee for a while (still incapable of saying anything nice to him. He's an awfully good Husbink to have) and finally make my way to bed. I woke up this morning still in a reasonable tiz so we played a game that we both have a very strong love/hate relationship with. It eventually made me so upset and angry that I started crying and then could tell Husbink all the things that were bothering me from the "I know this only bothers me because of the hormones" to the "This is actually a serious problem and I don't think we can fix it but you should know" issues.
Then we went to the library and rented the 5th season of 24 and I bought lots of new wool (not from the library) for more squares for my multicoloured blanket. And had beans on toast for lunch. (Only, they were weird beans...morrocan stylee which meant they weren't really like baked beans at all and more like a morrocan tagine thing with chickpeas that I sometimes make. All well and good but not really what I was after on a comfort eating day. Which means it is definitely fish fingers and chips for tea. I digress. Which is frankly what I'm going to do all post. You may want to stop reading now...). I feel ok now. I don't feel amazing. I certainly don't feel positive enough to go out and deal with Christmas shopping for Husbink's presents when I don't have any idea what I'm going to get. That would definitely still fall into the dangerous category. I'm emotionally hungover. I'm drained from fighting through the undergrowth. I know I'm going to feel better from here and that a number of the feelings will disappear (the irrational jealousies, the silly moments of choosing to take offense...) however, I also know that the larger problems are no closer to being resolved. And they won't be because, quite simply, life has to play itself out. There are various knowns...we have flights to catch, we have weddings to attend, family reunions to enjoy or tolerate (depending on which of several events...). It is a pretty short list of knowns though when compared to the unknowns (job? house? where? what? kids?) and each unknown rests precariously against the others making each decision vital and impossible. I simply have to take a back seat for a while and watch what happens. I've come to a few conclusions on various of the unknowns and I've learnt a lot about myself over the past year and a bit. I won't make some of the mistakes I made before but I'm sure I'll find new ones.
(Heh. I've got my (almost) entire CD collection on random on the laptop at the moment. And it has chosen now to play The Happy Song (sadly the slightly more lacklustre Matt Redman version as opposed to either Deliriou5? or Why?) (oh and I couldn't find a decent YouTube version...and to be honest, if you don't know the song I'm talking about, you probably wouldn't want to be introduced to it!))
I've reached one decision that, well, it isn't quite a decision because I suspect there may be some cases of "needs must" over the next year or so...perhaps I have made a concrete realisation instead. Here it is...
I never wanted to work in an office. It was my single greatest dread when I was a child. I'd been fooling myself that because the various office jobs (not counting temping, which is just weird...and just doesn't quite count) I've done have not been typical - have not involved banks or having to wear suits and so on - that I hadn't really been working in offices. Obviously, I have been working in offices. It is precisely what I have been doing. And even when working in offices for good causes and so on, it is still working in an office. It is still administration. It is still paperwork. Which is all well and good but I've just woken up and realised it is not well and good for me. There is a dream not-office-job that I have now but I think it is a long way off, if ever. Other than the dream job though, there are plenty of things out there that don't involve an office and I have to start thinking about possibilities there. Which could be quite fun. Certainly better to view as fun than not...
(Oooh, and now You Stole the Sun has come on...which has put me in mind of a new top ten...)

Entertainment?

A couple of years ago, in the months leading up to our departure from the UK, Husbink and I watched "The Constant Gardener". The effect of this film upon us was to cling onto each other at the end and promise to never, ever let go.
Last night, we watched Hotel Rwanda. The effect of this film? Well, besides that fact that I was so involved in and so overcome by the film that I felt like throwing up for a good few hours after, the ultimate effect was realising just how rubbish we humans can be. More specifically, how rubbish I can be.
I sat watching it thinking "if I had known, if I had been able to do anything at the age of 14, if anything like this was happening now and I knew about it, nothing, NOTHING, would stop me trying to fix it". Hello? Brain? Have you not been watching the news these past few years, have you not realised how much you have forgotten about areas of the world where this and similar "problems" still occur?
Which brings us back to the point of several months ago and the "what can I do about Burma?" question. I have less answers - and more sadly less questions - now than I did when I last posted about this.

Last week in our home group, we invited two older members of the church to come and help us establish our spiritual gifts and what they might mean for our lives (Husbink is the oldest member of our group and the youngest is, I think, 19 so it was new to some members of the group to think about this stuff).
My gifts? Teaching and exhorting.
My lowest gifts? All those practical things that tell you that someone needs practical help, that this practical thing needs doing, that this is how you do this practical thing...
Exhorting is all about helping people in their personal life - overcome problems (not in an emotional way, that comes under mercy - which apparently I'm not very good at at all), encouraging people to do the best they can, be the best they can etc etc. (Teaching is all about feeding their brains. No kidding.)
So based on that, I'm never going to be the person who sees a need and knows how to fix it, who knows how to get food parcels to orphans or medicine to disaster victims. I'm only too happy to help, but someone is going to have to tell me to help and tell me how to help. I'm very good at buying food for the food bank and putting it in the food bank box - but not until someone told me to do it and told me what kinds of foods were actually useful.
In many ways, it is comforting to be able to think "I'm not made like that" because I do spend a lot of time beating myself up about why I'm not like that. However, in many ways, it is frustrating to realise that this question may well keep coming back to me - what can I do and why can't I answer "what can I do"?
I guess I just have to find ways of making my far more airy-fairy personality useful. While I work that out, if those practical friends out there could tel me what to do and how to do it when it comes to being useful, I'd be very grateful.

Never, ever, ever again

Spin classes. Who came up with that bright idea for torture?!
I thought I was going to die after about five minutes. It took me most of the rest of the day (the class finished at 10am) to be able to breathe deeply again without wheezing and coughing.
I'm not even sure I got much benefit from the class as most of it was damage control: how am I going to get out of here without puking my guts up or dying? Eventually, my knee started to hurt, what a blessed relief! I could rub my knee and pretend that was why I was so awful at the class.
Husbink went to. He has almost persuaded me that it was really good for me and that I should go again. But I think that *almost* will stay an *almost* forever...

In other news...I scare people. I was aware of this when I was a teenager, but I'd forgotten. Hey ho.

My day

I'm still trying to work out what I should and shouldn't attempt to do in any given day a) since surgery and b) while trying to do this whole having space/working out the rest of my life thing.
On Monday Husbink and I went for a big walk. By big, I mean a bit less than an hour though it was at least up hill. This was too much and I spent the rest of Monday with quite a lot of post-surgery-type pain again.
On Tuesday, I pootled all morning while Husbink tried to finish HP before going to work. When he went out, I went and did a few jobs like dropping off library books and then spent a few hours at a friend's house chatting/watching children's dvds with her daughter who has chicken pox. All was well but I wanted to go to bed at about 7.30pm. I held out until 9.30pm.
Today I got up after 12 hours in bed, pootled a bit, spent some time with Husbink (he has now finished HP), went to a friend's house to discuss the women's retreat our church is running in September at which I get to be the speaker (very excited, yes, I know I'm odd with my love of public speaking...), came home in time to do my two tutorials and well, I'm only still awake because I didn't get round to putting my electric blanket on earlier!
Today feels like it has been the most "successful" day of the week so far in terms of not doing too much/doing enough. But I just don't know how to get the balance. I want to start doing stuff - and specifically picking up my fitness levels again - but some stuff seems to the be wrong stuff and only has a detrimental effect.
Whinge, whinge, whinge...sorry!

Being Grown Up

Today, I feel like being grown up has been forced upon me. As many of you will know, I've had surgery twice in my life on my jaw. Although the second time I was 18 so technically I gave my consent, it had been rumbling on since I was 5 so there wasn't really a decision to be made at that point.
Today, I went to see a specialist and came away less than an hour later with a date for surgery (just over a month away) all booked in and ready to go. I also came away with lots of not very jolly information about said surgery and about my preparation for it.
Anyhoo, the point of all this is that I had to make the decision. And I didn't really get any time to ponder that decision. Husbink is at work so he couldn't help me. My mum was asleep on the other side of the world so she couldn't help me. I had to sign myself, as the patient, that yes, I'd have this, yes, they had my consent to talk to all relevant parties about me, yes, I'd have a blood transfusion if needs be, yes, they could do whatever necessary on opening me up, fundamentally yes, I would not sue them.
As my previous two surgeries were fairly hefty (5-6.5 hours each), I have never really considered a lot of routine surgery as that major, it would be something that I could take in my stride. And this particular instance definitely doesn't count as that huge. It will be all over in two hours tops. It could be over in twenty minutes. (Or there abouts...) And yet now that it is happening to me, it does feel rather more major...

Wargh.

So. Some of you will already know about this as it affects you personally. Some of you will already have heard others talk about it. Some of you will have no idea. I'll try to make this understandable to all!

So. We currently have a week (or just under) to make applications for Husbink's job next year back in the grand old UK. These applications can't be made to specific jobs but just to areas of the country in which there may be a number of jobs, some of which will appeal, some of which won't. The majority of jobs do not take into account that you may want a life outside work or indeed have a family who equally need lives. You are expected to move over really quite large areas every year or so, basically never allowing for you to buy a house, settle into a community...as most of these posts run for seven years, chances are we need to consider our children in this decision too. Husbink can only apply to four areas.

Today, I am sad because we have pretty much had to count Yorkshire out of being one of those areas. The actual jobs there just look so much like not what we are looking for that we don't think we can apply there. We may still because it is quite hard to say we won't.

The East of England jobs, i.e. near my parents, require a lot of moving about and so don't appeal.

The Northern jobs, near Husbink's parents, look like they could well be in with a chance. They *seem* to be fundamentally based in one centre with short forays to other hospitals for specific reasons. Should we even be as lucky as to get a job in the same city as Husbink's parents, I would have family to look after me when he went on these forays.

The South Yorkshire jobs are pretty good. All centred on one place (and that being a place that already has a good friend living there - we shall call her Anne (with an "e") and see if anyone can work out why :) ). South Yorkshire is the only definite so far.

The Severn jobs appeal. And there are other good friends in that region, we shall call them Mad Medea and Husband for fairly obvious reasons. But we start to be a long way from my parents.

And so it goes on. There is no "ideal" out there. There are also very few "goods" and rather a lot of "bads".

We at least have the confidence that God brought us to New Zealand for a reason and so He can take us somewhere else for a reason to. But we have to make the applications for Him to be able to act on them!

Apologies, this is perhaps the most boring post you've ever sat through but I needed to get it out of my system. So I shall leave you with a pretty picture from my garden to make up for it and a promise that tomorrow or the next day I shall write about the lovely weekend we have had with a wedding, frisbee on the beach and generally good times.

Funny sort of day...

Today I have been mostly lying on the sofa watching DVDs (with a startling lack of eye candy following all the discussions here of late!). This wasn't my intended way to spend the day but a ridiculous amount of belly pain dictated otherwise. (As did Husbink and for once I listened to his doctorly advice.) We have now ruled out appendicitis (I was nearly dragged to hospital this morning) but not a lot else. It could be the usual monster of IBS but if it is it has changed shape. It could be something to do with having parted companies with the pill (no, this is not a subtle way of hinting about babies - the parting company was due to the IBS and there are no babies planned!). It could just be one of those things. We don't know. I just know it is a weird pain and I don't like it! And I know I want to go away for the weekend tomorrow as we have a four day weekend all sorted. And Husbink has decided that as it isn't appendicitis, it won't kill me so we might as well go away. Hey ho. Well, I guess it is time to go back to the sofa as it is starting to stab again. After Shrek, three episodes of Randall & Hopkirk, two episodes of Home & Away, one episode of Neighbours and starting to make my acquitance with my first Kiwi author courtesy of the library during the day, I'm not sure what I'm going to find to fill my evening!