your great life

Bake a cake in 5 minutes! Definitely dangerous.

You know those trending topics and articles that appear on your home screen when you go to read your (Yahoo) email? I generally ignore them, but today, being cold and a bit solitary, I was vulnerable to the idea that you could make a delicious chocolate cake in 5 minutes from start to finish. It sounds too good to be true, but the kids and I will definitely test the recipe this weekend.

 

 

                                          

< Not quite like this, as it's made in a coffee mug, in the microwave, one serving at a time. But still....

The problem is, do I really want to be able to produce a yummy-smelling, warm and gooey cake on demand? The Pro column is all about convenience... I always have these ingredients at home; I'll never be caught short when the kids tell me at the last minute that the school has sent home a request for bake sale goodies or party fare and late night cravings will be easily satisfied without going to the 24-hour supermarket in Watford.  The Cons; well they are slightly more compelling. I really shouldn't have 24/7 access to chocolate cake and neither should my kids. How will I convince them to choose fresh fruit on the basis that they need their 5-a-day and "anyway, we don't have any cake?"

I will report back, but just in case you don't have a Yahoo account, this is the recipe:

Ingredients

• 4 Tbsp plain flour
• 2 Tbsp cocoa powder
• 4 Tbsp caster (or granulated) sugar
• 1 egg
• 3 Tbsp milk
• 3 Tbsp sunflower oil
• chocolate chips
• vanilla extract

You will need one coffee mug and a microwave.

Directions

1. In a mug, combine flour, cocoa powder and sugar. Stir.
2. Add egg and stir until well-combined.
3. Mix in the milk and oil. Add chocolate chips and a splash of vanilla. Mix thoroughly.
4. Microwave for 3 minutes @ 1,000 watts.

Enjoy!

Away from home

The kids and I are in the United States, New Jersey to be precise, visiting my parents for the first time in a year. It's the longest we have gone without seeing each other for 10 years. It felt like forever.

Having lived in New Mexico for several years, and London for 15 years, our relationship depends upon phone calls and trans-Atlantic flights. It was difficult for a long time to be that far away from family, but it got easier over time, and then it got harder again after I had the children. No one around for me, to celebrate American holidays, Jewish holidays or birthdays. No one to give a squeeze of support, a cuddle to my kids, or to catch my eye when something strikes us as funny or strange...that secret language that families have. No one to bring me soup when I'm sick, drop over just to say hi or babysit overnight so my husband and I can have a night (or weekend) away.  I am well aware that it has been a bitter pill for my parents, whose 4 grandchildren all live thousands of miles away.  We do our best; speaking often and loving each other alot. I chose to make my home in England with my British husband, but living so far "away from home" hasn't always been easy or without some regret.

Recently my parents moved, after nearly 40 years in the house in which I grew up. It's only a mile or so from that house, so all of the surroundings are familiar. The new house is bigger than I expected, but the outside space is much smaller. There's no room for ball games, swings, hide and seek, angels in the snow, vegetable and flower gardens or a private corner for contemplation. It's in one of those communities with an entrance, though thankfully not gated, where many of the houses are attached to 1 or 2 others and all share a similar look. The loss of a huge backyard has to be balanced against the presence of a shared pool and tennis court in the neighbourhood. Compensation enough for some, perhaps, but both the kids and my father feel hemmed in and ambivalent about the trade-off.

The strange thing for me is the absence of complete ease. Not convenience; the house has everything anyone could want. Not aesthetic pleasure, because inside it's individual, beautiful and comfortable. It's more about that feeling of complete relaxation that comes with a lifetime of familiarity.  It doesn't feel like home. When I say that, I feel a little flip of the tummy, because in all the 20 years I have lived away from my parents, I have continued to call these visits my "going home." Why? I didn't have relationships with any of the neighbours anymore, didn't have any of my own possessions there and didn't want to go back. I was able to let go of the things that they decided to sell, knowing that it would be illogical to hold on to them for me or ship them abroad.

It doesn't matter really. It's no longer my house; it's about what my parents want and need. I have my own house, my home, 3,000 miles away.  In the end, my parents will always represent home to some extent and it will be alright for all of us. It doesn't feel like home...yet, but it's growing on me.

 

Heart Half-Empty or Heart Half-Full

Another Valentine's Day is nearly over. It's such a double-edged sword. I'm a fan, as you will know if your read my previous two posts. On our first Valentine's Day as a couple, my husband proposed, so the 14th of February is an anniversary of sorts. We have run the gamut of celebrations; once disastrously doing the newlywed tourist in Paris, sometimes ill-conceived restaurant meals, but mostly special dinners at home.  Sometimes those dinners are had after the children's bedtimes, but this morning it was a Valentine's bagel brunch with them.

Thinking, however, of the couples who are celebrating Valentine's Day without the children they want so badly, brought up memories of our early years (as well as a few in the middle) together. As my family exchanges cards up and down the generations, my idealized Valentine's Day vision wasn't exclusive. It included our children, yet to come.

Try as I might to feel 100% content and loved-up, a chunk of my red valentine heart was grey. I was honest and open about the depth of my sadness, which was probably a bit cruel, but I naively thought that love meant never having to lie about your feelings. Even though we had each other, it never felt enough without the children I wanted so much. I loved my husband; it wasn't that he was lacking.  If anything, it was myself I found lacking as our difficulties began with 3 miscarriages. Our life together had a huge, empty space that needed filling.

I eventually stopped beating myself up emotionally. through a lot of reflection and help from others.  I realized that we would make a great life anyway, and that I could consider adoption. But that took time.  For a long time, I didn't know any technique to make that feeling go away, or at least wait patiently to the side while I lived the rest of my life. I have now, so if you identify with this at all, you may want to give the exercise below a try.

Floating Hearts - A Visualization Exercise For Your Great Life

This visualization exercise can help you remain positive and live a full, happy life while trying to conceive, though it can be easily adapted for other scenarios. It works in your mind to fill the empty space that aches inside your heart.

 

Becoming ready - Quietly, sit or lie down so you are fully relaxed. Close your eyes and envision your feet, placing them so there is no weight on them. Think about relaxing the toes and arch of your foot, ankles, and move up through your calves, physically releasing any tension in the muscles. Do this from the feet to your head, isolating each muscle group one by one. When you reach your neck, relax the muscles by slowly moving your head in a circle, first in one direction and then in the other before finding a slightly bowed front, centre position. Your eyes should be kept closed throughout.

 

The heart - When you are fully relaxed, envision a large 3-dimensional ruby-red Valentine heart. This heart represents you at your core. You will be most content and deeply fulfilled when the heart is fully expanded.  However, just like a heart-shaped, squishy, bean bag pillow, you can be comfortable and happy even when your heart is half-full, or the beans shift from time to time.  Hold the heart like a pillow, feeling its comfort; the lovely feel of it.  It is really important to have a heart-half-full philosophy about this: Good as it is; better as it becomes fuller.

 

Completion - There are certain things that you want and need in order to fill up the spaces in your heart.  Think about what would make your life complete; whether it includes becoming pregnant or parenting by any means; 1 child or more.  You may have other dreams, such as a specific type of home, the place where you live, the professional success you are pursuing, or the lifestyle you want to have. There are no right or wrong choice as your vision is unique to you.  Use your personal value system to guide you, without limitation.

 

From the large heart will come others - Imagine gently squeezing it until one of those desires or needs pops out as a smaller 3-dimensional heart balloon. Give the small heart a name, e.g. daughter, son, our own house, working from home, more artistic skill, taking a hobby to professional level or improved health. You may decide to keep it or release the balloon to float away if priorities change. The balloons may float closer or hang in back, as opportunities come and go. Do this same visualization for each desire.

 

Life is good, but could be better.  Now you have your large heart and anywhere from 1 to perhaps a dozen or so smaller hearts floating around it.  The large heart is still the same size, but has more empty space inside.  Remember the bean bag analogy; your large heart/your life now are still comfortable because you can shift the contents around inside until you find a good position.  Wanting more does not diminish what you already have.

 

The box that holds your future - In front of you is a large box, beautifully decorated with your favourite colours and textures.  The box represents the promise of your life as it can be.  It is large enough to hold all your dreams and goals, no matter how big they are.  Reach out to take one of the small hearts in your hands. You have already given it a name, so you know what it represents.  Imagine having it back inside your big heart bean bag, filling it up a bit more and adding extra dimension to your life.  Breathe in deeply through your nose, expanding your chest while focusing on the small heart.  It’s already a part of you, but it lives in your mind. Knowing that someday it will take its place, but that today is not the day, breathe out slowly and lift your little heart into the box. It will rest there until it’s time to give it your full attention, commitment and actions toward making it real.

 

Your deepest wishes may be contained in one or two of the smaller hearts; those that are necessary to make you the person you want to be; living the life you want to live. They aren’t impossible to achieve, but they require your full strength, commitment and positivity.  If one or more of them holds the babies you haven’t yet had, imagine those babies curled up inside the hearts as they would be in your womb. Handle those hearts most gently and place on top of the others in your special box. When these are absorbed back into your big, ruby-red heart, it will be at its fullest. You can go on, knowing that they are as much yours now as ever. 

 

Re-focus - You now find the big heart and the big, beautiful box in front of you, side by side, and one final unnamed balloon.  Fill the balloon with the emotion you carry about the baby you want and the family you want to create.  Give it your longing, your sadness, fear, jealousy and anger. When it is full, let the balloon go and watch it float away.

 

Safekeeping - Take one last big breath in and picture the heart shrinking down and changing to tiny particles so it flows in with your breath, filling your chest so there is no empty space; no ache. Then, mentally shrink your box down to a tiny version of itself, and put it somewhere safe, in your pocket, bedside drawer or under your pillow, easily accessed when you have the opportunity to take action on one of the dreams held inside. Open your eyes and slowly breathe in, being conscious of a feeling of fullness. You are finished.

 

Repeat for stress relief whenever necessary. Only do this exercise when you are safely sitting or lying down and not while driving a vehicle or operating any kind of machinery.

(C) Lisa Marsh t/a Your Great Life 2010 All Rights Reserved.

An Infertile Valentine's Day; Why Celebrating It Matters

A Little Change Will Do Us Good

Last night I was blogging about the imminent Valentine’s Day and what it represents: romance, excitement, a little extra effort, attention paid to your relationship and memories.  This morning, I realized that what I really wanted to say is that Valentine’s Day is really all about change. 

 

Change is a word that can have you buzzing with excitement or dreading it like a molar that needs pulling. I would lay a bet down that more people prefer to avoid change, even if the place they are in, literally or figuratively, is not that great. Change is fearful, but those who embrace it know that risk can bring worthwhile rewards.  The change I am suggesting here is adopting different attitudes and behaviour for this day than you usually display throughout the year.  It needn’t be scary or difficult.

 

Valentine’s Day is the one holiday that doesn’t have us balancing the priorities of work, in-laws or meeting the guys down the pub (they will be with their wives). It’s not only acceptable, but also expected, that you don’t include anyone but the two of you in your plans. It lifts a couple up out of their routine and ignores the mundane actions we take on a daily basis.  As a single woman or girlfriend, I had a few awkward Bridget Jones experiences; sometimes I got lavish attention while other years brought such disappointing V-Days I had a hard time swallowing from the tension.  But marriage is supposed to change all that, isn’t it? It brings a sense of security that your other half will have to have noticed the ads for cards, flowers, restaurant specials and jewellery.  Ha! The advertisers haven’t taken into account the tougher aspects of marriage, including miscarriages infertility, parenthood and tight finances.  That’s where you come in.

 

In the first year in which a couple has begun their efforts to have a child, Valentine’s Day is a lovely way to reassure yourselves that you still adore each other.  Your cards, your breakfast-in-bed tray complete with flower, your text messages and your evening celebration all speak the same language: “everything is fine, we will get past this, it hasn’t been a full year yet, I don’t blame you at all, and we love each other even more now for having gone through adversity together.“ There’s a certain “let’s ignore this and it will go away” collusion. After that first year, when anxiety has set in, and beyond, Valentine’s Day can feel like too much effort.  That’s understood.  Or maybe it’s not.  One of you may believe that you both feel so miserable that no celebration would seem fitting; while the other believes that you have to stick your finger up at infertility and plans a surprise. Uh oh.

Fourteen (14) Tips For February Fourteenth (14th)

 

My number one tip here is to communicate, in words, not in body language. You aren’t dating and trying to impress. You probably aren’t giddy with the first blush of romance. You love and appreciate each other.  You may be hoping your other half brings up the subject first. Take the plunge and say something. 

2.  Use Valentine’s Day as the excuse you may need to revitalize your relationship. Fertility issues can be very draining.  You can get away with more overt gestures of love on the 14^th of February than on any other day in the calendar, so do.

3.  If Sunday is a day often spent with family, cross yourself off that guest list. This is a day for the two of you. Put each other first.

4.  If you are staying home for dinner, make a change or two.  Set the table with a few beautiful pieces. Add a candle.  What you eat isn’t so important; being across from each other at the table is (NOT in front of the TV) so you can look straight at, or reach a hand across to, each other.

5. If you are going to dinner, don’t do the “I don’t care, you choose,” “No, you...” dance. Do care. If you usually go out to the local take-away with Formica tables for pizza, go to the pizza place with candle-lit tables in dark corners. The environment is important, whether at home or out.

6.  Make some ground rules for the day: you may ask that ther be no infertility talk, no bringing up other people’s fertility issues, no apologies about being the one with the problems, possibly no tweeting of updates. Being and doing things together as a twosome, and leaving your followers patiently waiting until Monday, could show where your values lie.

7.  Make a noticeable effort to look good.  Marriage, comfort and long-term stress can divert your attention away from relatively superficial concerns. Leave the tracksuit and sneakers in the closet and put on something you know looks good on you. It makes such a difference to how you carry yourself.

8.  Pull down the shades and put on some music. Dancing is a great way to initiate body contact.  When is the last time you just relaxed in each other’s arms, with no agenda?

9.  Valentine’s Day can be as simple or extravagant as you want.  I find that restaurants never show their best side on these kinds of “theme” days. Another idea is to book in to a Spa for the day  and swim and lunch together in between treatments.  If you don’t have money to splash around, some low cost alternatives are a romantic DVD, a bowl of pink and silver wrapped Hershey’s Kisses, sparkling water in wine glasses and a gift certificate for a massage to be redeemed immediately (don’t forget the scented oil).

10. Make a little show of turning the answering machine on and the mobile phones off. Give each other 100% attention.

11.  If you already have a child at home and no babysitter handy, write out an invitation for him (or her) to join you in the shower, at the dining table or on the sofa, for a private celebration 15 minutes after your child’s bedtime.

12.  Men; do not let a woman go through an entire Valentine’s Day thinking you forgot, just so you can surprise her at 8 p.m. Her self-esteem may have taken a big hit from her miscarriage or infertility, so that very long day may add to her worries about your relationship.

13.  Have fun! You can go back to the serious stuff the next day.  Changing the way you relate to each other adds a little sparkle. It isn’t fake; it’s just less attention to your worries and more attention to what you have together.

14.  If you enjoy the change, don’t stop with Valentine’s Day; repeat it.  Unfortunately, it’s all too easy to say “we should do this more often.”  Instead, how about scheduling a date night once a month when you can block out the world and focus on enjoying each other.  Make sure it happens by drawing a little red heart on the day you choose for next month.

 

Hopefully, you are like two lovebirds and Valentine's Day is the icing on the cake, in which case you probably have it all figured out already.  However, for those other couples whose infertility and/or miscarriage have taken a big toll on their relationship, the 14 tips above are a rescue remedy.  Don't be afraid of showing how much you are still attracted to him. Revive some of the humour that has been missing for a while.  Whether your Valentine's Day is tender, passionate, planned down to the last detail or lighthearted and spontaneous, the change will do you good.

Seven Hours Maternity Leave

This morning I overheard a TV news item about a headmistress in Oxfordshire who returned to work 7 hours after giving birth. I was only half-listening as I tried to make breakfast, so it didn't really register until just now. The newspeople interviewed one girl, who I believe said something like "It's good because it gives us a role model and shows us that we can do anything we put our mind to." or thereabouts.  Apparently the Head, whose name I didn't hear, thought the same. She aimed to prove that women CAN do it all. (I hope I've got that all right.)

My heart sinks when I hear stories like this.  Why do women have to prove anything to anyone?

Just like men, women come in all shapes and sizes, have a range of intellect, emotions and stamina,  their own reasons why they want to be a parent and their unique personal values. There are mothers who work because they need the money, those who like the social aspects of work or the careerists, who love what they do, and those with their eye on the promotions and status. There are "self-employed" women who work hard at being full-time mothers at home. (Please don't argue that it's all joy and not work at all. I won't believe you. I lived it.) We have choices and surely that is what women were fighting for in the 1960s ,70s and 80s. Why should we have to do it all?

First of all, many women were once girls who watched our stay-at-home mothers wearing a dozen different "hats," as wife, mother, daughter, shopper, chauffeur, chef, cleaner, friend, nurse, seamstress, playmate and advisor.  That's working hard with no salary or promotion in sight. It's funny that I didn't see it as a chore or a boring life.  It never put me off the prospect of having children or staying home with them.  In fact, I was so late in having my kids that I felt we deserved to have that special time together and drew it out to 9 years. 

Other women saw a chance, over the past 40 years, to go to work, whether in their own business or for an employer. Their children would have watched Working-Mom get dressed in the morning to go to work after the drop-off at school, come home tired in the evening, hopefully just as fulfilled, ambitious and rewarded as their father. It's a different, but no more or less valid model than not working outside the home. The job is not a decision to be judged; it's the slavish devotion to it that shocks me.  In my opinion, being a Superwoman who spends not even a full day with her newborn is stretching the model to an extreme.  Why does she feel that is necessary? The only answer I can come up with is that she feels pressure, either externally or internally imposed.

No one asks a man if he is happy to go to work every day and only see his children for a few minutes in the evening and on weekends.  Some people might say he already has it all. However, I do know a few fathers who would like nothing more than being stay-at-home Dads to have more time with their children.  It's not so far-fetched these days. Men are entitled to choices too.

It shouldn't be a competition between men and women or between women who work in the home versus those who work elsewhere. What parents could be doing is figuring out the dynamics of the people in their family and what is best for all of them, individually and together. Think of the lessons that would teach their children: negotiation, compromise, respect, values, strategy, success, etc...

I think that it's ludicrous to to think that anyone, male or female, has to "have it all." If that is the criteria for happiness, then the world may be populated by many, many discontented people.  I think we could be happy having just enough and striving for a good mark in most areas of their life. By "just enough" I don't mean mediocrity or quantity; I'm thinking about that which we need to do to get our needs met and which can be devoted to personal growth, relationships, contribution to society, relaxation and fun. Yes, that's another reference to Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs.

Instead of representing a good role model for the teenage girls under her care and influence, I think that this female Headteacher has actually represented perfectionism, people-pleasing tendencies and a need for external approval, none of which I see as being very good for our children.  If she is happy, good for her. She has more intellectual spill, physical stamina and confidence that this arrangement will benefit her (and her child?) than I do. I had new-mommy brain for months and needed a nap every afternoon for an hour. However, even my most ambitious friends took the first 3 - 6 months off work to care for and bond with their precious, new child.  Seven hours? It doesn't compute.

It's That Time of the Month Again

You got it, it's the 21st for a few more minutes and I'm welcoming you to this month's ICLW.  I want to thank all of you whose blogs I got to last month and who I will try to revisit this month.  It's mind-expanding and I love the fact that you are putting yourself forward, proud of what you write. I also want to commit to visiting and commenting for at least as many new bloggers.  I hope that you will comment here and let me know if anything I have shared has made a difference to you and in what way. Thanks again to Mel, the Stirrup-Queen and author of 'Navigating the Land of IF',for making it all happen.    Enjoy!

An Older Mom's Musings on Age and Kids, Part 4

It’s a function of our media-led society now that children are wise to our ironic expressions, our code words and protective, little-white-lies.  My children look at me suspiciously to figure out if I am telling them the truth, questioning me “are you sure?” and “how do you know?”  One of our favourite complaints has to do with using a dictionary "when it's so much easier to use Spell Check."  They haven't won that battle yet.  Maybe it’s better this way. They have to grow up at the same pace as their peers in today’s world, but sometimes I wish we could disappear into deep countryside to live barefoot, free and innocent for longer. I mourn the younger mother inside me who wanted her children to think that she was the prettiest, smartest, coolest Mom ever.

 

The most telling bit is in my knowledge of popular music and archaic electronics called record players and tape decks. I am a diehard car-radio singer and I move to the music at traffic lights.  I remember when Michael Jackson and I were both teenagers. My daughter can’t believe I know all the words to 30 year old Elton John, Queen and George Michael songs, or that there really was a singer called Meatloaf and a group named Bread.  I try not to cringe when I hear my little girl singing the catchy Lily Allen song lyrics so innocently, not understanding that everyone else knows it's about a selfish lover and the elusive orgasm.  Even tonight, she stayed up to watch Pop Star to Opera Star and we realized that we had crossed that time-line when some ads become inappropriate watching for a kid.  We are feeling our way around these blurred boundaries, taking it as it comes.  Tomorrow she gets her first email account, with parental controls, and she's excited, but trying to be cool about it. She even said that she's not sure anyone uses email anymore, now that there's Twitter, Facebook and MySpace.  I can guarantee they do, judging by the 100+ I receive every day.

 

Are there any advantages to being an older mother?  I’m not entirely sure.  Yes;  I did my round-the-world travels when I was in my 20s and 30s, but now it’s unlikely that I will get to do it again for another 15 years, if then.  I suppose I’m slightly more confident than I might have been if I had had my children in my twenties.  I’ve experienced a wrong turn into law and taken the opportunity to retrain and work as a fertility coach. I’ve made two big moves by myself, once across the United States and once across the Atlantic to England. I’ve had years where I was more certain about what I didn’t want to do than about what I did want.  I’ve survived heartbreak and lived to tell the story.  I finally learned that it's okay for someone to not like me; life does go on.   I hope that my experiences will help me to be a better parent when my children have big decisions to make, always available to them, but secure enough to let them figure it out on their own.

What a Week!

I've had the strangest week.  By Sunday evening I think we all had the same opinion about how long this Christmas break had become. We had stayed home most days, lazing around in pjs past the respectable hours, reading, talking, playing a few games here and there, and catching up on family time.

Then came New Year's Eve. I bought some treats and planned to watch a video together.  I wanted very badly to finish my blog post "Someone I'd Like You To Know" about my father Gene, for his birthday.  I couldn't get it quite right for ages. He is my Dad. I missed the entire video, disappointing my kids.

When I joined them, the only thing to watch on TV that was in the least bit upbeat was Jools Holland, and the kids just hated it. It's formulaic, panders to the celebrity audience and he has a wierd cadence to his conversation.  I only won their hearts back with ice cream and snuggles. At 10:30, Pip asked if he could go to bed.  Sophie struggled on until midnight, but even she didn't see the point after a while. We watched the London fireworks for about 10 minutes, which complemented the fireworks going off behind our house. I still don't know which family does them, after 13 years. 

On Monday we could see the light at the end of the tunnel: school on Wednesday. I was planning my freedom in my head, cooking dinner and then somehow twisted my knee as I turned to the fridge. It was one of those moments when you are in shock from instantaneous pain but you can't quite understand it. Seems I tore a ligament. When the Doctor in A&E asked where it had happened and I said "the kitchen," he thought I was joking.  Now I have crutches and orders to stay off it for a few days. No problem there.  Sitting: 0% pain. Walking: 9 out of 10. 

My trip to the hospital was my kids' opportunity to get out of the house. I called around, found a Mum who would take both of them while we were at A&E and kissed them goodbye. Honey called out "if they give you crutches can I borrow them? They're so cool."  I hadn't seen the two of them looking quite so happy for days. 

Today the snow came. In London and its suburbs, it seems like the entire world stops for 1 inch of snow.  The last time we had a big snow, Honey was small enough to carry in one of those backpack carriers, so maybe it was 9 years ago.  There are no snow ploughs, no one has salt or sand and everything shuts down until it melts. The News programs give you an update by each centimetre that falls. So, of course, being Wednesday the schools didn't open. Brian left at 9 a.m. for a job interview in Ipswich, hours from home. I made him take a shovel, an extra set of clothes, an ice scraper, a thermos full of hot water to help clear his windscreen and chocolate.

It's nice to know that I have at least one friend who comes through for me in emergencies. Just as I was wanting to slit my throat at the idea of being virtually immobile with two bored children, my friend Jackie asked if I wanted her to come get them. We searched the closets for ski overalls that our combined six children hadn't outgrown and bundled them out the door. My house was as quiet as a sanctuary all day. Her house was buzzing full of rosy-cheeked kids going in and out the back door, making Lego creatures, sewing, drinking hot chocolate and playing with the Wiii (I have got to get one of those.). Brian picked them up at 6:15 p.m., happy, hungry and tired; the best combination.

Guess what? No school tomorrow either. I'm returning the favor to my dear friend and having her 4 here so she can go to work. I won't be walking in the snow with a pair of crutches, but I will supply them with hot chocolate, craft projects, baking and DVDs. I'll watch them making a snow sculpture through the back window.  Should be fun.

I Admit It; I Did It

2009 was the year I:

• stopped biting my fingernails, for good this time
• embraced social networking with Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Ecademy and blogging
• confronted my fear of rejection 
• fell in love with Twitter
• joined IComLeavWe
• started networking with intent
• committed to giving each of my children 20 minutes each of my undivided attention and company every day
• gave up professional haircolouring
• committed to my niche coaching practice in fertility matters
• mourned the demise of Borders UK
• joined Athena Network
• got my husband to build the children a treehouse by "hiring" someone else to do it
• didn't get to France once, even for a day-trip
• spent the sunniest week of the year in Wales with my family and our dear friends T.G., Sally, Freddy & Thomas Mittler
• helped my husband through the illness and death of his friend of 39 years, Stephen C
• gave my daughter the bedroom of her dreams
• got tired of chemically blocking migraines and sought a different way
• tried homeopathy, cranial osteopathy and hypnotherapy to no avail
• started the North London Miscarriage Support Group
• got together with my old friend Ricky Ross for the first time in 25 years
• used Facebook to reconnect with friends left behind but not forgotten
• lost my diamond engagement ring in May and found it in November
• went to my sister-in-law Jennifer's 50th birthday and her son Joel's engagement party
• celebrated my daughter's double-digits
• mourned the days when my son's obsession was with wild animals, dragons or superheroes and accepted his new obsession with aliens and monsters
• ice skated for the first time in 30 years
• truly saw myself as a businesswoman for the first time
• gave in to bifocals after 2 years of hunting for my reading glasses
• woke up to the roller-coaster of peri-menopause
• wrestled with the beast called people-pleasing and won
• wrote more than I read
• started reading my own childhood books to my son
• contacted and apologized to someone I hurt in high school
• got tired of my own cooking every night
• took office space in a clinic for my coaching practice
• explained puberty, sex and pregnancy to my daughter

2010 is the year I intend to:

• read all the books I bought in the Borders Closing-Down Sale
• finish the two paintings I started last summer and start another
• get a new computer
• get fit
• make the treehouse more user-friendly
• use our American Express reward points toward a vacation
• push my business as far as I can go
• see a film not made expressly for under 13's
• not buy another coffee mug
• celebrate menopause, finally. Please Gd, take my period and keep it
• improve my correspondence with old friends around the world. (No, I won't force them to subscribe to this blog)
• be published
• keep more organized accounts and paperwork for the business
• learn how to use my IPod
• end my self-imposed ban on salon haircuts and colour
• ask my husband to cook dinner more often
• go into London more often
• do a walk for charity

and so much more.

Christmas on a Very Tight Budget

Before I even start writing anything else, let me say up front that we are Jewish and have recently celebrated Chanukah with family and friends. Marriage to Brian and living in England meant embracing Christmas. Pretty much everyone in England, including Christians, Jews, Sikhs, Hindus, etc..., seems to celebrate Christmas, so I have now had 14 of them.  I think it's because of Boxing Day, on the 26th. When everything is closed on Christmas Day and it's a 2-day public holiday, what are non-Christians supposed to do? Well, here they make a turkey dinner and exchange gifts. It's one more day in the year to be with family.  I put tiny white flickering lights around the front door to look cheerful and welcoming, but I draw the line at a tree.

This has been a difficult two years, financially speaking, for many people and we are no exception.  It's been our most difficult year ever.  We have halved our Christmas budget, which has brought out the bargain-seeker in me, even more than usually. An August shopping trip to a NJ Target was essential, but even then we spent less than in previous years. Every gift for the "outer layer" of family, including a boyfriend, a fiancee and a lodger, has been carefully chosen and all came under my self-imposed budget of £8 ($12, give or take) each. Thank GD for TK Maxx.  Each of my children are getting one big gift from Mummy and Daddy; which this year is a CD/Radio for the 6 y/o and a fake fur throw in blue (nicer than it sounds, believe me) for the 10 y/o, who is very tactile.  Everything else can fit in a stocking.

Worrying that my kids might be disappointed,I have spent the last month trying to cool down their usual overheated fervor in the run-up to Christmas.  In September, Honey started leaving little notes on my pillow about what she might want for her October birthday.  Then, when she realized that we were being "careful," I got a note or two about how if those gifts were too much to ask for her birthday, we could spread some to Chanukah/Christmas instead. Fat chance, darling girl.  Pip, at 6, is both less subtle and less polite about his desires.  "I'm going to get the Launch Pad, figures, weapons and gameboard from ... "  He really wants to believe in Santa, so I have dropped hints about the recession hitting the North Pole too.  Honey has agreed to play along. I think it's because she still wants a stocking.  She is not too old to compare whose pile is bigger.  She advised me to get an extra roll of Christmas wrapping paper to be used just for Santa gifts so that Pip wouldn't catch on.

So, it's ironic that, just after pulling together all those bargains, our TV packed up. It's been a week now.  My husband wanted to go out and get a new one right away, but in an unexpected role reversal, I am playing Scrooge. (I'm the fan of electronic media and have been aching for an I-Phone, a new computer, a new camera...)  Not only might we find a TV in the sales the day after Christmas, but also, I decided that it isn't the worst thing in the world to not have TV and DVDs for a short time. We have been doing arts & crafts, tidying the house, having friends sleep over and playing games. Don't get me wrong. I like TV as much as the next person and I have missed it. It's just that, it's an expense we did not need. Oh well. My daughter's eyes lit up when a new TV was mentioned..."a flat screen!  a bigger screen! Now, maybe we can get a WIII!"  Whoa, no one said anything about a WIII.

It's going to be an interesting Christmas. It's just the four of us this year.  It was lovely when our children and their cousins could celebrate and play together.  However, I remember years when I had anywhere from 12 to 33 here for the day in a small, English cottage.  It took two days up front to get the house ready, grocery shop and cook and another two to finish the leftovers, clean the house again, and stop the ringing in my ears.  I also remember spending nearly £300 on food, decorations, candles for each table, and gifts for visitors. This year we have no one else to please. We may stay in our pyjamas or sweats, hang out on my squishy bed pillows and open three times as many Christmas crackers than usual.  I can browse the blogs.  Everyone will get to eat what they want, or not, as is often the case with my kids. Honey chose profiteroles for dessert tomorrow and I baked a chocolate cake for Boxing Day, rather than the traditional fruitcake & flaming Christmas pudding. Actually, now that I think about it, Christmas on a tight budget may not be too bad. It will be a case of less is more. I'm looking forward to it.

I hope you all have a lovely Christmas and everything you need to make your great life.

Lisa