Powerless to help

Over the past few weeks, Mr. has been having a tough and trying time at work. He's been taking work home, it's weighed on him, and he comes home exhausted.

What's really difficult for me here is that I can't help him. I can't fix it - and as a typical firstborn, I desperately want to. It's grating to be sitting at home, comfortable and relaxed, knowing that his day is filled with anxiety and stress... and nothing I do will make it easier for him. I can't even make home a relaxing haven for him to come home to because everything is boxed up and ready for tomorrow's move! So all I can do is pray for him.

That's the only thing I get to do: I can pray. And I do. God can give him what he needs to get through this.

I stopped using shampoo months ago

It's true. October 2012 was the last time I used shampoo on my hair. I went 'cold turkey': one day to the next, I just quit it.

The first week I tried various homemade concoctions - baking soda in water, diluted apple cider vinegar - which I had read about, but I found these to be a bit of a hassle and they didn't really make my hair feel nice. So I quit them too.

What do I use, then, you ask?

Water only.

Just plain old water!

I still wash my hair daily, I just don't use any products on it. It's made an amazing difference! Where my hair in the past has been thin, lifeless, and I couldn't grow it beyond my jawline because it would just have no body to it at all, it's now full and lively and Mr loves it... but don't take my word for it, here's some visual proof:

Before. Quite flat.

'After'. Well, current. Not flat!

It's been the best thing I've done for my hair, and the biggest change in what I look like, in a very long time. I can't say it has made my morning routine easier or shorter, as I still shower and wash my hair daily (just without any products); or that it saves me much money, as shampoo really hardly breaks the bank... but I love being able to have long hair - and Mr much prefers that look too.

A note of caution: it may take a few weeks for hair to get used to this. Mine took perhaps a week and a half before really loving life without shampoo, but people are different. I've read some people take up to six weeks for their hair to start looking nice, rather than greasy or unkempt, after changing away from shampoo. Also, my hair was thin and flat - I have no idea what this might do to thick or curly hair!!

Give it a try if you like... any questions, I'll try to answer in the comments!

Body conscious, or, "Love Your Body"?

It seems to be universally accepted wisdom that a woman needs to 'love her body'. Just now I came across an article about a female photographer who took nude pictures of women who didn't 'love their bodies' and displayed them to the public, to help the women see what others saw.

I'm more than a little iffy about this whole business.

Gok Wan and his campaign to get the nation into the nude, one woman at a time? Well meaning I'm sure, but uh, please no.

Loving - what does that mean?

What kind of love are we talking about? The word has so many nuances... and the way some of these body-love campaigners put it sounds more like infatuation to me. Is it healthy to stand in the mirror and admire yourself? Be excited about seeing your reflection?

My body serves me very well and does
almost anything I ask...
it just has a real aversion to cold!

Or, what about the grasping, needy kind of love? Strut your stuff, show off your 'assets', because after all you love yourself? I understand this photographer meant it to help, but why do we need others to tell us they find us beautiful... if we are truly secure? It seems to me that those who shout the loudest about 'loving your body' are often encouraging the most insecure behaviour - showing 'what you've got' to others and expecting to be affirmed.

I don't love my body in that way. I don't stand in front of the mirror and admire what's there. I don't avoid mirrors, either; of course, I'll check to see how my clothes fit, and yes, I see things I don't like. No rose tinted 'bodylove' glasses for me! My body doesn't look perfect - without going into details here, but the fact is, nearly everyone deviates from today's beauty ideal in some way. I definitely do.

I do love my body in the Biblical sense: "No one ever hated his body, but they feed and care for it..." - without particular emotions, I do feed and care for my body. It serves me very well, every day, and I appreciate that!

Can't we just 'be', without any particular emotion?

Having admitted I do have my insecurities, I guard myself against making too many value judgements about how my body looks. I don't hide it, or any part of it, from my husband; and when he says he likes what he sees, I choose to believe him. He's the only one whose opinion about it matters; he's the only one who sees it all.

What I question, really, is this: why should we feel a particular way about our bodies at all? Perhaps that's... simply not necessary?

What a thought! All the marketing messages for a billion-dollar industry are... perhaps simply a bit silly?

There are so many things in my life I don't feel a particular way about. I observe them and make adjustments when necessary, but there's no emotion with that. Examples? My heartbeat (too fast? Slow down what I'm doing!), my digestion (problems? What did I eat?), my eyesight (all ok? Great!)... as to the idea that the way my body looks should evoke any particular feeling, I simply refuse to give this any mental space.

Life's too short!

Peace.

Making the most of the time

Being at home - not working outside home - is, to me, an exercise in learning to lead myself. And it's not that easy.

I have choices. What I do with my time is my own decision. I no longer have deadlines, my day is not structured for me as it was at school and at work. If I want structure, I have to create it. That's a huge shift to make - I've been either at school or at work all day since age 4!

Of course I haven't been at work seven days a week, but weekends off spent at home when working full time are different to every day being spent at home.

I could do nothing and spend every day on the couch, watching daytime TV. (Some Saturdays after a tough week's work, that's what I needed to do. Hurray for Saturday Kitchen!) That's not what I want to do. But the fact is that if I don't lead myself, if I don't put discipline into my day, then I won't have any: no one is going to check on me. That's as freeing as it is heavy with responsibility...

But it's not just (house-)work that won't happen if I don't organise myself; it's also people interaction. If I don't make the effort to reach out, put dates in the diary, and meet up with people, then I will be without people interaction all day. Again, at school or work this is ready made; with this gig, it's something I have to organise.

I can see that it would be easy to waste day after day, either on laziness or busy-ness, and miss the bigger picture: what am I here for? Is it just to keep house for my husband? That's but a small part of my work. The big picture, and the two main reasons I need to make the most of the time - my priorities, which should inform my daily structure - consists of these:

• To help my husband. This means:
• Creating a home environment where he can relax
• Praying for him and supporting him in his own walk with God
• Listening to him
• Being there for him, loving him abundantly and being a source of joy to him
• To impact this community. This means:
• Getting to know the people in my community - neighbours, members of the church - and building relationships with them
• Offering practical help where needed, when I can
• Making my home a welcoming place for all who come, where they can relax
• Living a joy filled life that shows something of God's fingerprints on it

I have a lot to learn, and practically, my current living situation is less than ideal - we're moving in less than four weeks' time (God willing) and the house is a mess, half-packed as it is, and hardly I place I feel like making a home of. But the big picture is always relevant. And that's why, if I have coffee with a new friend, I'm actually fulfilling my calling - not wasting time, but making the most of it.

Mother's Day, everywhere else

Today it's mother's day, everywhere except here in the UK. All my American friends are talking about it on Facebook, honouring their mothers.

Since 1996, I have pretty much ignored Mother's Day. I never once went to my mother's grave to put flowers there, not on Mother's Day, not on any other day. My father's mother, my gran, demanded gifts/gratitude on Mother's Day and I would usually indulge her. But my own mother, I didn't see any point in marking that day.

My mother, long before me

Frankly, I still don't - after all, she's not around - but so many of my friends' Facebook comments made me think. People thanking their mums for love, support, patience. Not things I received much of from mine; and that's not a bitter comment, because I loved her to death, but a simple truth.

My mother wasn't willing to be a mum. It simply was not what she wanted out of life.

Her idea of living well was to be free - and a mother is forever (or at least for 16+ years) bound to her children. She felt caged. She didn't embrace the idea of loving, nurturing, supporting these needy beings that had entered her world; our needs were a burden to her, dragging her down, holding her back. I was very self-sufficient and independent by a very young age, because she encouraged that: it meant that our needs suffocated her less.

Because of us, her work life suffered. We sometimes kept her from being able to go to evening events. Or we got sick and she couldn't go to work. Work - teaching music - was what her life and ambition was about. If we wanted love and attention, we needed to enter her world: once I was old enough to learn to play, she took an active interest in me. I was never enthusiastic about the music, but I was desperate for her presence and her approval... perhaps more so than my sister was, who was content being more or less ignored by her and instead forged a stronger relationship with our father.

I have always said I didn't want children. Mostly that's because I was frightened I might react in a similar way to the incessant needs a child hangs onto you with: that I'd flee, need to get away, the way my mum did into her work. I've come a long way from that place; even though at some level the fear is still there, I don't reject children any more. Three reasons for that:

• I have been completely changed on the inside since becoming a Christian and I'm simply not who I was. Her upbringing of me doesn't define me now.
• If God gives us children, I don't have to rely on my own strength, which I know won't be enough. I have access to all the strength I need by leaning into Him. My mother never had that.
• I'm not on my own, and I'm not in an abusive relationship like she was. I have a loving, capable, supportive husband - and with him by my side, I can just begin to imagine motherhood.

Running again

I don't consider myself a runner, not by a long stretch.

Mr & I approaching the finish at the Twilight Run 10k

I don't run slow. If I do that, I get knee pain faster than you can say, 'bad form'. No, I have to run at a good pace so that my form works and I don't get into heel strikes... the downside of that being that my lungs can't keep up and I can't run long distances. When I say 'long' distances, I'm saying that the day will one day come that I can run a whole mile without walking, but I'm not there yet!

But, I will run. It's the only exercise I (semi-)enjoy, it's free, it gets me out in the air.

I haven't done any running since the Twilight Run last October, a 10k obstacle course that was as grim as it was fun, but Mr and I are signed up for the Oxford Half Marathon this October. Six months to get ready, six months of warm-ish weather here, six months without excuses and hopefully, following that time, a solid habit I won't so easily let go again.

So I did my first run/walk, about 4 miles, two days ago. Thighs, abs, calves sore even today, but it's time again now: 3 miles, here I come!

After Honeymoon

Our time away is over. But I'd like to think that the honeymoon isn't!

Three weeks of undiluted bliss in paradise - I'll say no more... it was definitely the holiday of a lifetime. But it had to come to an end. 'Real Life' continues, and three weeks is more than most have had, so I'm grateful for every minute we had and the many, many beautiful memories created.

And now?

I find myself returned home to a place that wasn't home before. Over last week and this week I've been working, mostly cleaning and tidying, to make this place feel like a home, and it's getting there. (Ironically, it won't be home for much longer!) So, just about a week into this new life, I'm beginning to create a routine in my day:

• Morning: get up with Mr, have breakfast together, then I'll spend time with God, then do house related work. Cleaning, tidying, laundry, whatever needs doing. Later, workout and shower, then lunch.
• Afternoon: do out-of-house things i.e. errands, and/or Internet stuff: I'm still in the process of sorting out my name change with banks, insurance, etc. Registering with a doctor, getting to know the local area with its shops and where to buy what is my current project.
• Evening: Mr. returns and I cook/serve food. Funny enough, that's my biggest challenge so far! He likes to eat a variety of food, whereas when I was single, I'd happily eat the exact same thing every day for months on end. (corn on the cob? All winter!) - so I'm finding it really challenging to come up with meals we'll both enjoy, and make them different each day. He just told me today he's getting a bit tired of rice...

So, we're beginning to settle into a rhythm. I haven't been able to drive anywhere yet because I had to get onto his insurance, but now that is sorted out, I will be mobile. And Mr will fix up his second bike for me so I can get around when he's taking the car. 

We're getting there!