Problems Or Opportunities?

Hello again, lovely people. Here I am on another rocking weekend. It's been a good week. On Monday I did some shopping. Tuesday involved a visit to my shrink (I can never spell the  correct word). Psychologist? Um. I think that's right... (And yes, unfortunately I am still demented, but we are working on it). Look, I 'll probably always be a little bit demented, but in a good way. I hope. But back to my week.

On Wednesday, I enjoyed some blissful alone time while Mickey Blue Eyes took the car to be serviced. And on Thursday I tagged along with my mum and her sewing buddies for a delightful lunch, because FOOD.

Meanwhile, Friday was spent cleaning, cleaning cleaning. Truly. Shut up, I do clean sometimes. Much to my disgust, as I sit here today there doesn't appear to be any evidence of this. Rude. It all just seems impossible... 

Which brings me to this lovely little prompt: 


"We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.” - Charles Swindoll


First of all, I had no idea who this Charles Swindoll chap is so I googled, as you do, and it turns out he's an evangelical christian pastor/preacher type dude. Which explains why I had not heard of him, being a total heathen and all. 

My initial reaction to the above quote was that it seemed like another trite take on the old nugget: when life gives you lemons turn them into lemonade. Not to mention the old 'everything happens for a reason' cliche that irritates the bejesus out of me. 

My first instinct is to roll my eyes and dismiss it as claptrap. Also, I just wanted to say claptrap. Because, CLAPTRAP.

The thing is, I truly am trying to be more positive. It occurs to me that I'm some sort of weird dichotomy of sweet but sarcastic. I make no sense. Hence, the demented shrink thing... But I digress. 

Since I am prone to over thinking, I mulled it over some more. Upon reflection I recalled a similar saying from the illustrious Dowager of Downton Abbey. Yes, she's a fictional character. Who cares. She still had some classic lines. Such as this:

Life is a series of problems which we must try and solve, first one and the the next, and then the next, until at last we die  - The Dowager Countess from Downton Abbey.

Yikes. 

Very comforting words indeed. Using 'comforting' in the sense of confronting and disconcerting. 

 It's quite true when you think about it. For me, things seem truly insurmountable when I  think I have to solve lots of things at once

Oddly enough, it seems to be a thing I do. I think I have to have everything in my life sorted by half past eight in the morning yesterday and have morphed into some sort of superwoman. As a result, this thing I have heard of called autistic inertia kicks in and I end up doing nothing at all. Sigh.

Even my shrink advised me to tackle things slowly, one at a time, instead of doing too much at once. Or nothing at all, as the case often is. See above. 

So I just have to remember that problems can be opportunities. And tackle them slowly, one at a time. 

As I face all these problems opportunities I will imagine the Dowager's piercing stare and direct words. And just get on with it. 

What about you?

 Do you see problems as opportunities? 

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Alone Together

Hello! How are you? All well and bursting with vitality and joie de vivre? I certainly hope so. I am not. Presently I appear to be suffering from Mum Flu. You know the one. It's like Man Flu except no one gives a shit. Yep. That's the one.

Despite this, I figured it was about time I made a guest appearance on my own blog. As is my usual fashion, I have started posts numerous times only to trail off unable to articulate what I wanted to say. It's always unpleasant when this happens. I usually express myself better through writing. But anyway, here I am. Even clunky words are better than none. At least that's what I'm telling myself. Draw your own conclusions.

Apart from the ghastly old Mum flu phenomenon I also have blue screen of death issues. Yes, it is with great sorrow that I announce the tragic passing of my trusty laptop. I thought I  may be able to revive it. In vain, I tried for hours to find a solution. Sadly, it now won't even switch on. With that goes the laptop and my promising career in IT. Snorts.

So here I am using an ancient dodgy laptop that only works while plugged in. Nice. Problem solving, people. That's what creativity is. I'm nothing if creative. Or something...

Anyway, I wanted to chime in on last weeks Friday Reflections prompt before it's too late: Alone,Together.

An odd coincidence occurred. When I sat down to write my thoughts about this I flipped open one of my many paper journals/notebooks to find an old entry from July. This is what I had written:

It's a really mellow time of the afternoon. A sort of peaceful vibe has descended over the day. It's lovely. There are sounds of distant birds and cars, but they're a pleasing murmur. Everyone is in their own world. It's good to slow down. I wonder when exactly is it considered to be dusk? Or twilight? I need to turn the light on, but I don't want to get up and break the mood. I quite like sitting here while the gentle darkness tiptoes in around me. I am savouring the relative calmness I feel in the moment. Whenever I am in another horrible moment I can remind myself that moments like this exist as well. There are not enough places here in this house for all of us to be alone. Alone, together. I like that. 

Okay, so that wasn't particularly riveting upon reading it again. But my point is, I quite like the alone, together thing. I suspect many folk would view this as a negative thing. I don't. We are a very introverted family. In fact, I reckon, 'alone, together' could be our motto. In my opinion, alone time is essential to re-charge. Solitude is soothing and necessary for equilibrium. It doesn't mean we're not a family, a team, a united front. We are.

Alone doesn't necessarily mean lonely, to my way of thinking. I've experienced loneliness as a teenager and that is a very different thing. I certainly wouldn't want to be lonely again. I do want to be alone quite frequently.


Luckily, I am enjoying this very thing as I type this. I'm loving the peace and quiet. Later, I will welcome the noise and togetherness of my family but for now I enjoy the tranquillity... Of course I also have lots of stuff to do. But it's nice to it without interruptions. 

In other exciting developments, I have begun bullet journaling. I had heard of it before, but didn't expect it to work for a scatter-brain like me. However, I really like it. Plus, I have so many  notebooks to use up, so why not? Speaking of excitement, I also managed to make it to the library last week after my shrink appointment. Yes, I am still as cutting edge as ever. Some things never change.

Before I go, it's also the one year birthday of  Denyse Whelan's Life This Week link-up.  I am a little late to the party, but better late than never! So congratulations and thanks to Denyse. I like to link up whenever I can and the prompts are helpful as well. In future I will endeavour to be less erratic and join in more often. And now we all get CAKE! Am I right? 


Okay, just a short and sweet one. Gotta go. Things to do. Lists to tick. Serenity to saviour. 

Seeya! 

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The Subject Of Selfies

Reasons I rarely take selfies: 

• I have a dinosaur phone with a flip case. Apparently it's a 'mum' thing. I thought it was just a broke economical thing. Silly me. 
• I AM a dinosaur. Consequently I can't take a decent photo to save my life. And I use idiotic expressions like 'can't take a photo to save my life'.
• Duck face selfies are stupid. Related: they should be called cat's bum selfies instead. See above.
• I don't like my double chin. Okay, chins.
• I have no idea where I put my selfie stick... Hmmmm....
• My house is quite...shall we say... lived in... Nobody needs to see that.
• My life revolves around trips to Aldi and the doctor. Riveting. These occasions don't exactly strike me selfie opportunities.
• My fashion style is basically described as 'whatever still fits'. So, yeah. Nothing to show there.
• I'm told I can be quite negative. Pffft. Can't imagine why. So I don't really get into the whole hashtag blessed etc phenomenon.

Reasons I probably could (I won't say should) take selfies sometimes:

• Nobody cares about my double chins besides me, and if they do, screw them.
• My children might actually want to remember me one day, despite their current vehement antipathy to featuring in any photos with me on social media.
• If I ever become a missing person or a murder victim, the authorities will have to use a dated image of me, such as the one of my bald noggin when I had chemo. On the plus side, I was assured that I have a lovely shaped head. Related: I may have been listening to too many true crime podcasts...
• Last time I posted a selfie on Facey I had several people comment on how GORGEOUS I am. They were probably just blowing smoke up my arse, but I don't get many compliments, so I'll take it.
• Taking a selfie, however bad, might be a good distraction when I'm feeling wobbly (ie anxious) when out and about.
• Who says you have to be good at everything you do? Just do it anyway. Perfect is boring. I'd never do anything if I had that attitude. Oh wait...
• I recently had a haircut and I have finally lost the frizz! It's now just wavy but not frizzy. Okay, that's not that exciting to anyone else but me. I can finally get a brush through it again! YAY! 

So I should probably end this with a selfie, but I'm wearing an alluring combo of track suit pants and a purple Best & Lest jumper that's seen better days. Actually, I lie. It never had better days. It was always hideous. I think your mental picture should be sufficient. You're welcome.

But I will 'get in the picture' at some point...

Over and out.

Do you take selfies? What is the best way to disguise double chins? 

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Ideal Meal

 Greetings!

Here I am again. Back to talk about one of my favourite topics: FOOD!

So what is my ideal meal, you ask? 

These days, my ideal meal would have to be almost anything I don't have to cook. It's frightfully rude how I am expected to do so every single night. HMPH.

But since I like to eat every day, I do get on with it and manage to produce something vaguely edible. They're not necessarily 'ideal' or 'favourite' meals, but they're good enough. 

My actual favourites would have to be anything cooked by my mum. Especially her roasts and desserts, including her infamous apple pie.

Other than that, I do enjoy a good lobster mornay. However, I never cook it, because I'm quite terrible at making things like mornay sauce. Consequently I haven't had this delicacy in YEARS.

I find such meals are best enjoyed with a good bottle of wine. Also; dessert afterwards. There's always room for dessert! 

There I am, above. enjoying some lobster mornay with a glass of wine. It was such a long time ago I do not remember where this photo was taken. I suspect in was way back in the grand and glorious pre-children days. It seems like a parallel universe now. We actually went on nice relaxing holidays and ate at lovely restaurants that didn't serve chicken nuggets. Those were the days. Sigh.

Of course, I couldn't get through this post without mentioning my beloved cakies. They may not be considered a meal exactly, but as I mentioned above, there's always room for dessert.

On the other hand, if I want to have cake for breakfast, why not? Yep, I am literally one of those disgusting people who could seriously eat cake for breakfast. No surprise that I struggle with my weight and cholesterol levels. Oops. 

I mean, I don't eat cake for breakfast. Well, most of the time I don't...  But I could.  Well, what is the difference between having cake or pancakes or waffles? They're all so so bad and so so GOOD. If you know what I mean. 

So there you are. Just a short and sweet serving from me, because my brain seems to not be working and I can't get the words right. 

Conclusion:  My ideal meal would involve a roast or lobster mornay and cakies. When you say that all together in one sentence, it confirms what I already suspected: I am gross and disgusting. 

Over and out. 

What about you?

Are you gross and disgusting?

Uh I mean, what is your ideal meal? 

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About Being The Baby (With Bonus Dilly Dallying)

Hello again, dear and delightful people. Okay, person. There must be at least one person reading out there. I hope...

 And I can say you're delightful because you're inside the computer. This makes it SO much easier. I don't even have to get dressed, although I am. Badly. See? Easier all round. I can wear awful clothes and your eyeballs are spared that atrocity. 

Anyway, on with the show. Or the blog post. You know what I mean... 

This popped up in my Facebook memories this morning:

It made me realise that I am quite fond of a bit of dilly dallying. I do it here all the time, popping in and out at my fancy.  Nothing wrong with that, right?

But I'm here now, so let's get on with it. I'm wondering if my propensity towards dilly dallying has anything to do with my birth order? I was the baby of the family. I have one older brother.

The first thing I discover when I google birth order is, the stereo-type for the 'baby' of the family is being a free spirit, a risk taker and charming. Well yes, I am quite charming in my own way. Aren't I?

But as for the other two - forgeddaboutit! I am definitely not a risk taker, at any rate.

Meanwhile, I did go on to have three children of my own, despite being a hard core introvert. Hmmmm, maybe I AM a risk taker? 

Anyway, what I was going to say was,  I didn't really think 'middle child syndrome' was  a thing until I had three children.  All I am going to tactfully say is, my middle child and my youngest have an interesting relationship. It could certainly be described as love/hate at times. It can be quite difficult and complicated to navigate as a parent. 

I remember watching The Brady Bunch as a kid. It was always Jan and Peter, the middle siblings, who seemed to be having a permanent identity crisis.  The Brady Bunch is a totally credible, realistic and cutting edge show to use as a reference. Or something. Okay, maybe not. But I just like to bring up a random daggy pop culture reference, because that's how I roll. Deal with it. 

Incidentally, my 'baby', aka Mr 8, is off on his first ever overnight camp tonight. I did find myself becoming considerably more anxious about this fact than I remember being for the other two. Are we inclined to be more over protective towards the youngest child? On the other hand, there is also the theory that by the time you get to number three you're much more... ahem...relaxed...

Thinking about it, I guess it would have been interesting for me had my parents decided to have more children. That would have made me the middle child.  Evidently my mum was firm in her decision to only have two children, so I stayed the 'baby'. To this day I am still a mummy's (and daddy's) girl. I am not sure how much of this is due to my birth order or my personality. I've always been shy, quiet and introverted. And, as it turned out, autistic. But I didn't know about the latter growing up.

Oh! Random segue: I suddenly recalled a funny incident when we brought my second born son home from the hospital. His brother, then Mr 3, suggested to me that we could put him in the bin and the garbage truck would come and get him! So there was definitely a bit of jealousy going on at the beginning. They're good buddies now, thankfully.

And I think that is all I have to say about birth order. The conclusion: I have no idea. But this 'baby' still likes dilly dallying. I'm off to do so right now. 

What about you?

What is your birth order? Do you think it effects your personality?

Are you a middle child? Or a dilly dallyer? 

Have I asked enough pointless questions? Should I throw in one more? 


Someone make me stop asking questions...

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I Can't Live Without...

Hey. It's me. Yep, I'm still here. 

I haven't felt like checking in here recently. To be honest, I'm struggling yet again with the wobbles and I don't want to bore everyone with it. Nothing dramatic has happened. It just sneaks up on me now again, because it's pesky like that. Anyway, as I said...it's frightfully tedious...yawwwwn.... 

Oh yeah, and it's also been confirmed via a blood test that I am indeed menopausal. So I guess it's understandable that my moods might be a bit all over the place. Sigh. 

I am doing all the things I need to do to get some equilibrium back. Seeing a shrink, exercise, medication. Blah blah blah... But it all takes time.  And I will get there eventually. So I might pop in and out of this space if and when I feel like it. I'm just trying to not give myself too many things to think about at the moment. 

So in order to keep it simple, here's a quick and to the point list of the things I cannot live without: 

1. Oxygen.
2. Water.
3. Food.
4. CAKIES!
5. Chocolate.
6. Tea.
7. Books.
8. Music.
9. Peace and quiet/solitude.
10. Oh yeah, my family are pretty great, too. 
11. Exercise. 
12. Writing. 

Yep, I'm doing my usual Captain Obvious with numbers 1, 2 and 3. Or perhaps it's the 'literal interpretation' thing that us ASD folk are supposed to be known for...

Also, technically numbers 4 and 5 fall into the same category as number 3, but whatever.  I COULD live without 4 and 5, but I don't want to! I basically have the maturity of a three year old. I want my cake/chocolate and I want it NOW.  

And as far as number 11 and 12 go, I am definitely inclined to be lazy and avoid those things.  But when I DO do them, I really do feel better. So they are staying on my list.  And that is final. 

Okay, I'm done here for now. 

What about you? 

What can't you live without? 

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Taking Stock - July Edition

Making: A mess. I'm so skilled at this. It's a gift, I tell you! 

Cooking: My signature dish. It's called: Whatever's In The Fridge. Or my other gourmet creation, imaginatively titled: Eat It And Shut Up. 

Drinking: Waaaaaaaay too much tea. A little coffee and wine. And some water. Boiled, with a teabag and a dash of skim milk added... Okay, more tea. What can I tell you. It's a terrible addiction. 

Reading: I just finished reading a so-called romantic suspense novel. It was shit. Is it just me or does there seem to be this cliche in thrillers where the killer always turns out to be the 'quiet/shy/introvert/awkward type? Shits me to tears. Most of us quiet folk can't handle any confrontation or raise our voices let alone kill some one. Lift your game, thriller authors!  

Trawling: Drawers and washing baskets looking for that most elusive of things known to humankind: matching socks. WHERE do all the odd socks go? Related: my feet are FREEZING. 

Wanting: A cure for cancer. Also; anxiety. A magic diet pill, a jumbo sized bottle of wine with a funnel, warm feet (see above), a good lie down, a kick up the bum and approximately seven million dollars in crisp one hundred dollar bills. Not to much to ask, is it? 

Looking: For inventive ways to stay warm. And sane. Any suggestions?

Deciding: Whether to have yet another cup of tea. Pfffft. The decision (meaning the actual cup of tea...) was already made. 

Wishing: That all the good and groovy folk didn't have to suffer while ass holes walk around unscathed.

Enjoying: Reading, cups of tea, cuddles with Mr 8, snuggling in bed with the electric blanket on a frosty winter's evening. You know, all the simple little pleasures in life.

Waiting: Tragically, I am often waiting for pesky old anxiety to pass. But it ALWAYS does. That is the key thing to remember. 

Liking: The fact that I seem to be getting into regular exercise again... But I'm almost too scared to say it, because every time I publicly announce these things I fail spectacularly. So I had better shut up.  Shhhhh, don't tell anyone! 

Wondering: Why it is so incredibly difficult for me to warm my feet in winter. Everyone always tells me it's 'easy' to get warm in winter. Meanwhile, my feet are blocks of ice.  With thick socks and ugg boots on sitting in front of a heater. Gah.

Loving: That's it's school holidays. Sleep-ins FTW! I'm sure this will change very quickly by the week's end.

Pondering: This and that. 

Listening: To the hum of the heater and a car in the distance.

Considering: Things that I am not going to announce here because... Well, see: Liking. Nuff said. 

Buying: Lots of groceries and food. Does winter make everyone want to eat and eat and EAT ALL THE HOT FOOD? Yep, me too. Same as every other season, really. 

Watching: I began watching reruns of Mad About You, just for something mindless to do while I'm folding washing. Anyway, there was episode the other day when it was NYE in 1996. And I suddenly realised, that is TWENTY-ONE years ago! Jebeez, I feel ancient. 

Hoping: That my upcoming mammogram in August will be all clear again for the second year. Fingers, toes, legs, arms, eyeballs crossed! 

Marvelling: At how time flies, and at my beautiful family.

Cringing: At the thought of having my tits crushed again. I can deal with the pain, but waiting for the results is very anxiety-provoking. 

Needing: See: Wanting. They're not just wants, they're NEEDS, I tell you!

Questioning: Life, The Universe and Everything. Also; what can I eat next?

Smelling:  My dinner. Pie, mash and peas. Total comfort food. I don't even care. It was GOOD. 

Wearing: I am certainly NOT wearing my pyjamas. Nope. No way. Oh shut up, it's COLD! 

Noticing: That my unpleasant little 'friend' (aka anxiety) has snuck up on me again. 

Knowing: The unpleasant 'friend' will be shown the door very soon. 

Thinking: About what book to read next.

Admiring: Anyone who is battling anxiety. You're a bloody legend. 

Getting: Cold. Fat. Old. I won't be cold forever, though. Shame about the other two...

Bookmarking: Nothing!

Disliking: That all the good and groovy people suffer. See:Wishing. 

Opening: Books. I still love a good old-fashioned paper book.

Closing: Drawers and cupboards so I can't see the mess and my epic failure to embrace the Konmari method. 

Feeling: At the moment, I feel kinda neutral and even. I like that. Wish I could bottle certain feelings and banish others for good. 

Hearing: Hang on, didn't I already answer this?

Celebrating: We have several birthdays coming up. Mr 15 becomes Mr 16 (yikes!) in 7 days, then it's my Mum's birthday on the 26th. And in August, it's Mickey Blue Eyes's turn. Yay! CAKE! 

Pretending: That I'm a mature, sensible adult. Yeah, nobody's fooled, least of all me. 

Embracing: Electric blankets, track suit pants and fleecy pyjamas as day wear. I have drawn the line at wearing them to go shopping, though it's tempting... Especially because nothing much fits me right now. Oops. 


Done! That's my stock-taking for the month of July!


What are you celebrating in the month of July? 

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