Dr Kafoops to you

Dear Internet,
It's been a long time since I wrote to you and a lot has happened. Here's a few of the highlights:

1. I am two-years-all-clear of breast cancer. OMGYAY!!!!  The oncologist's have had lots of conversations with me over the past two years regarding the potential for DCIS to be over-treated. But, my youth (!) and the grade of the cells would most likely have continued on, so I am incredibly lucky that it got picked up and dealt with. But treatment sucked the energy right out of me, I was really pretty out of it until around the November a couple of weeks after radiotherapy ended. I'm still more tired than I was before and I cope OK when I pace myself. During radiotherapy I somehow ended with an ongoing digestive upset of indeterminate nature and lost 10kg over 18 months. I'm just back at the bottom of the healthy weight range for my height recently.
2. I published a paper at the end of 2015, got general registration as a psychologist, and began working in private practice in February 2016. I love being a psychologist! 
3. I submitted my PhD in December 2016.  It took 5 years with multiple monthly intermissions, 3 jobs, 1 bout of cancer, 3 kids and the Big Guy and ... I passed WITH NO CORRECTIONS in Mar 2017.
4. My relationship with tBG is only getting stronger, though we have been mightily tested with work/study/child-rearing/ex-spouse stress.
5. In Dec 2016 we bought a house, renovated it over Christmas and new Year and moved in in February of this year.
6. All the kids are grown and gorgeous in their own ways and lovely to both us and others. Really, they're all pretty awesome and I feel so happy to share my life with my beautiful family.
7. My Mum got lung cancer in June this year (but had it surgically removed) and is OK, that was an intense time but the prognosis is hopeful.
8. I just opened a new sole practice and even before I've started marketing I've been getting referrals from doctors who already know me. That feels good and I'm excited about having my own business.
9. I recently got a period after 6 months off. God only knows what's happening inside me. I'm 45 now, our kids are grown and babytime is over for me like it is for most of my peers now. 

I've decided to leave the blog here rather than shut it down. I hope that some of the random ramblings and my situation echo in heart of future readers. The thing about being in clubs about crappy stuff happening to you (infertility) is that when it's not happening to you, you don't belong anymore.

I'm still, 9 years on, sad that my Best Beloved and I didn't get to create life between us. Life is a miraculous and improbable thing. We are all so very lucky just to be here and be conscious of our own existence.

I wish you well, reader, why ever you've landed here.

DCIS, fibromyalgia, radiotherapy part 2

Here I am, I've completed 13 days of radiotherapy. Halfway done (spread over 3 weeks)!


I've managed to keep my jobs going along. One is a day a week in an office, so the past couple of Mondays I've driven from work to the hospital to have radiotherapy straight after work (so as not to have to lose work time). That's been OK, but those are long days. The other part-time job is more of a do it when I can job, so that's what I've been doing and I'm happy to say I've kept up with it.

It is SO lovely not to be doing my PhD and NOT FEELING GUILTY! I have ignored my PhD completely. Which is fine because I flipped it to part-time and now my submission date is mid-2017 (I can flip it back to full-time any time I want).

As for the radiotherapy itself, the rays are imperceptible. But the effect of them on my skin is not imperceptible. I have a reddened square of skin starting under my collarbone and extending 2 ribs down beneath my b00b, sideways it goes from my midline to my armpit. The skin is very sensitive and I haven't been able to wear a bra for the past week. By about day 7 all constricting tops or anything that rubbed on the skin was out. Thank goodness I've got little b00bs (never thought I'd say that!).

 Unfortunately, I am in a fibro flare. Lots of my body hurts, most of my joints and especially my back ... but no back spasms - hooray! Days 2 and 3 were strangely awful because my muscles were specifically protesting the weird position I'm in. Left arm tucked down beside my body, hand under my thigh to keep the arm still, a little splayed away from my body so the side dots* line up. My right arm is crooked like a body-builders but my hand is clenching a round "donut" so I don't have to reach all the way back to the handles abovebehind my head and there's a wedge under my elbow to balance my arm. It's better than having my right arm fully extended out abovebehind my head, but not by much. I've taken 2 Panadeine Forte (and an antihistamine to stop the itchiness that I'd developed) before half of the sessions. I tried a few other combos, but short of knocking me unconscious it appears impossible to relax my neck/shoulders completely. So I'm muddling through with prophylactic pain relief.

I'm not sure if I've been fatigued from the radio, because I'm always tired. But I don't seem to be more tired than usual. I have naps a couple of days a week.

So there we have it.

DCIS (Stage 0 breast cancer), fibromyalgia and treatment

So I had a sore and swollen left b00b and I went and saw my GP at the end of April.

He recommended a mammogram to suss out Lefty.

Lefty was fine, but Righty had a thing. Some calcifications. Suspicious ones.

Multiple doctors visits ensued. A stereotactic breast biopsy was ordered. That means getting a needle and sticking it into my b00b while said b00b is squashed in a mammogram machine.

Pro-tip #1 for people with fibromyalgia who have to get a stereotactic breast biopsy, get it done upright. I tried to do the face-down-b00b-through-a-hole stereotactic table but couldn't turn my head to the side and stay still on that hard surface.

I took analgesics and a muscle relaxant to try and stop my neck/shoulder from seizing up during the biopsy. I didn't seize up, but the local anaesthetic injection hurt like my b00b was on fire.

Biopsy results came back with the 3rd best breast cancer diagnosis you can have - high grade DCIS with comedo and solid pattern.

Stage 0 non-invasive breast cancer (the best diagnosis would have been low grade). DCIS stands for Ductus Carcinoma in Situ - atypical cells that are multiplying fast (2 of the cancer criteria) but stuck in a duct (so missing the 3rd thing needed for it to be more worrying - no invasion).

Current clinical guidelines for treatment of high-grade DCIS in a young (relatively-speaking) woman is to perform a lumpectomy and follow it up with 25 doses of radiotherapy.

Wait, what?

Hang on. What The Fuck? Surgery and radiotherapy?

I have two part-time jobs and am in the write-up year of my PhD. Ain't nobody got time for this on top of that.

10 days after diagnosis I had surgery (30th June) and now I have a smaller right breast and a hard lump at the surgery site (a seroma). Surgery happened fast.

They got it all out and no invasive cancer was detected alongside the DCIS (which sometimes happens).

Recovery from the operation involved 9 days of complete non-functionality. The we discovered I was having a bad reaction to the low-dose amitriptyline I was put on after the surgeon told me I had to stop HRT. My brain turned back on on Thursday the 16th June. That was a momentous day - I could think again, talk correctly and I stayed awake all day. Imagine that!

I had to stop HRT because >70% of breast cancers are hormone driven.

Welcome back menopause symptoms, you suck arse and you're not welcome. I'm hot flushing all over the place, my emotions are labile and my sleep is increasingly craptastic. The low-dose amitriptyline was helping my sleep but it was also making into a zombie who couldn't think straight, or even talk proper-like during the day.

B00b appears to have some cording from n1pple to rib cage (my surgeon went in via the 6 o'clock to 12 o'clock line of areola-meets-normal skin). My b00bs are giving off a Marty Feldman vibe if you get my drift. Am going to see a physiotherapist who specialises in breast cancer patients.

Yesterday I had my first appointment with the radiation oncologist and she said she's treated patients with fibromyalgia before. Fatigue is a common side-effect of radiotherapy - I should expect it. Plus site tenderness (which is my whole fucking b00b).

Today. I went into the radiation planning session. I have to hold my right arm above my head to get it out of the way of the b00b (that's what everyone has to do apparently).

Pro-tip #2 ask if you can keep your other arm down, you can if they can still tattoo the dots above your arm-meets-body line.

I took a shitload of painkillers and a muscle relaxant and still, holding my arm over behind my head hurt a heap and I feel like a spasm is coming on. I'm on a 5 weeks, 5 days a week radiation schedule starting August 5th.

I've googled fibromyalgia and radiotherapy but there's not much out there.

I'll see if I can keep track of how I'm feeling.

I am not dying of cancer so that's great obviously. But my treatment is the same as if I had Stage 1 cancer with no lymph node involvement. I get to miss out on chemotherapy which is a giant fucking YAY.

But still I have now spent months worrying about the b00b and now I'm in treatment and I'm sad that this is going on for me now. I hate this portion of my life and my eyes are sore from crying.

So, yeah. That's what happening for me at the moment.

Hippo Birdie Two Mee and Facebook woes

So far today more than 70 people have said Happy Birthday to me. Mostly on Facebook. I'm 43 today. I hate 43. It's an ugly number, a prime (I don't hate primes on principle, 2 is quite nice) but this is an asymmetrical pointy blobby yucky coloured number.

This morning I woke up crying from a bad realistic nightmare about being unlikeable and it's been hard to shake the sad feeling. I'm not sure about my likeability, I know I was difficult as a teen and I know I was astray in my 20s. I don't think I did friendship very well in any of those times.

Then when I hooked up with the Little Guy's father he didn't like me having relationships outside of ours, so I gradually had none. Three friends from my youth still see me and love me in real life. Tens of people I was in friendship circles with have either added me or acepted my adds on Facebook and lately I am torn between hating that and liking it.

So this dream...I went out for a meal with a girl I was friendly with at school - same groups and all that. And at the end of our time together, she told me that although I'd changed, I still wasn't really likeable and she didn't want to be friends. I started crying in my dream and woke up sobbing in bed. The Big Guy was in the shower and my little-not-so-little darling Guy heard my sobbing, my gut-wrenching cries and came to comfort me. He climbed onto my bed and cuddled me and then when I didn't calm at once he went to get his step-father who dried off and came in. The two of them lay either side of me cuddling me while I sobbed and snuffled and tried to calm down. They reminded me it was just a dream and not real. After a while I stopped crying and they said Happy Birthday to me. Which brought forth more sobs.

I'm torn with Facebook. I have friends now, people I connect with both on and off FB, but there's a stack of people who live in my city, who I used to be close to but who I think would really prefer never to interact with me in the flesh - even if they 'like' my posts or photos, or make encouraging comments or congratulatory ones or even commiserating ones. Are they friends? I don't have hundreds of people friended to me in there, but this group of old school friends does me in.

Should I unfriend them? It feels like a Thing. A Big Thing, to do that.

I could send a message perhaps?
"I know we're FB 'friends' but I don't get any sense you'd ever like to have more to do with me than that, so why are we bothering to be acquaintances who share lives. I'm unfriending you, not because I don't like you but because I'm not sure you actually like me. If you decide you'd like me in your life you can add me back."
But that also feels like a Thing. An attention seeking thing?

I really don't know what to do but I do know I'm disturbed by the 'friend' level FB affords.

Hello 2015

Hello you out there.

Little update?

Kids = well.

Husband = awesome.

PhD = freak-out - submission by the end of the year.

Work = busy.

Health = hormone-replacement therapy is the bomb! All hormonally-related issues are rectified with magic pills. (Hooray for science!). Other health, not so great. Am presently wearing a Holter monitor for 24 hours to see if we can catch my stupid heart palpitations in action and assess their cause etc.  Back/neck, been cruddy for a month of so, but not so in spasm that I can't move.

Travel = YEAH BABY! We spent a lovely Christmas in New York (a fortnight there), a few days in LA (OMG the shopping!), then came home collected the kids (you read that right, we went to the states sans kiddos - just TBG and my Mum and me) and went to Bali for a week to defrost and relax after busy USA.

Life is pretty OK Jose (as long as I don't think about the PhD too much).

So, post-menopause hey.

I wish post-menopause had some post in it. As in finished. Instead all that's finished are periods and baby-dreams.  But symptoms, oy veh, I have them coming out the wazoo. Literally.

Why is menopause education not included in general biology education. Seriously. We just went to the s.ex-ed class for tLG and there was no mention of the End of Days. Just that female fertility would run out in 30 years or so, like someone magically pushes a button and it's all OFF. Well, it's not and I am under-prepared for this.

My GP has put me on hormone replacement therapy.

DID YOU HEAR THAT? ME? I AM 42!!! HRT IS FOR OL' LADEEEZ. (PS, no offense intended for anyone older than me or on HRT.)

Apparently, it'll take 2 or 3 weeks to kick in, apparently. So in the meantime this is how it is.
Let me tell you what's in store, all you lovely ladies out there reading.


Night sweats and hot flushes/flashes (who the hell knows which terminology is correct).
Oh My Fucking DoG. I had read about this but absolutely nothing can prepare a perpetually cold person for the anti-joy of this internal infernal heat.  I actually thought to myself (pre-hot-flushes-actually-occurring) "Oh, maybe it would be nice to be hot".

No. It is not nice. In the space of a second, I transition from comfortable to OH MY GOD GET THESE CLOTHES OFF ME I AM DYING OF HEAT. In all seriousness. And at night it's worse, so I sleep in 45 minute stretches, punctuated by throwing off of all bedclothes and cooling too far. To say, I'm tired is an understatement.


Irritability
Mmm, imagine PMS. Forever. I am doing a lot of time outs (sending myself to another room) and deep breathing.


Dryness
You know where I mean. And it's not only my external should-be-moist membranes, it's dry deep inside. Like some kind of internal (infernal) Gobi.  I also experienced an overgrowth of healthy flora and had to bomb my body to control it all. Still too scared to try horizontal folk dancing with The Big Guy. Last 3 times were painful. Even with aids. Poor Big Guy is getting a rough deal out of this.

That'll do for now.

I'll keep you posted, I'm sure you're desperate to hear the next instalment.

PS. Some women do not experience many (or any) symptoms of menopause. They are lucky, and when my Mama told me she was one of them I wanted to poke her eyes out with a stick. Just sayin'.

"That's it; that's all she wrote"

Meaning: An articulation of a sudden and unforeseen end to one's hopes or plans.

But it wasn't unseen, nor unexpected. And yet.

My period is 2 weeks late but I'm not pregnant. Instead what I am is post-menopausal.

FSH = 90.6
Estrogen <44

They are the levels found in a person who no longer ovulates and will no longer menstruate.

I'm 42.

I knew it was coming, but I didn't REALLY know it. Not in my bones. Not in my heart. Certainly not in my hopes. But now there is no chance for the famous "just forget about it" baby.

My realm now is one of hot flashes, vag.inal atrophy, vag.inal dryness, irritability, mood swings, insomnia blah blah blah.

Fucking life is unfair so much of the time.

Did Tough Mudder - not fit, can't run - WTF?

Hello all,

I did Tough Mudder on the weekend!

A TOUGH FUCKING MUDDER! 20km, 18 obstacles, tons of mud.

I'm not a fitness freak, I've got fibromyalgia, a neck/upper back that's inclined to seize up and arm muscles that alternate between strong and weak unexpectedly.  I don't like splinters or being rained on when I'm clothed.  Haha, why did I sign up for TM? Because it looked like awesome fun and I thought I'd be able to get into jogging.  

But ... I'm not a jogger! After signing up for TM, I started to do Couch-to-5K from September 2013, I managed to do 6 weeks of it and got to running 20 mins straight. But then I hurt both my knees (BOTH of them) and had to stop running. For good.

Here's how I managed on the day:
1. I had the most awesome team with me. 15 of us did it, varying ages (19-51) and levels of fitness.  All incredible people, incredibly helpful. We all agreed we'd do what we could, skip what we couldn't and have a blast getting muddy. We did that alright!

2. I wore long compression pants, a long sleeved compression top.  I carried a camelback full of water, pain killers and a lip balm. I wore the running shoes I was used to (they scrubbed up fine afterwards). I also wore a tight pair of these light gardening gloves (they have a textured grippy palm) and cut the fingertips off so water would drain out.  This was so I could grip the wooden obstacles without my killer fear of splinters!  They worked a treat and kept my hands warm to boot.  (It was totally freezing on the day. That was seriously the worst part, so cold my teeth chattered for many kilometres.)

3. I alternated between walking and jogging slowly. So I paced myself pretty well, by the end I was pretty much only walking, as was the rest of my team. But I could still walk! And climb! And jog a little!  Unlike two days later when walking was very painful :)

4. I took paracetamol half way through.

5. I skipped a few obstacles I knew would damage me. I'm looking at you Balls to the Wall, Funky Monkey, Leap of Faith, Just the Tip and Everest. (Our whole team skipped the latter two.) My upper shoulders/arms/neck can't take much so I was sensible. Plus I need my arms and neck to type my thesis, so I was pleased to do three quarters of the obstacles. And I managed ones I didn't think I could - like Hold your Wood and Glory Blades.

6. I didn't let anyone yank me by the arms to help me up, I accepted boosts wherever possible though.

7. I had so much fun! My favourite obstacles were the Ladder to Hell, Twinkle Toes, Mud Mile, Artic Enema (I was so hot at the start and it was the first obstacle - awesome to jump into cold water).  I did both the electricity shockers and all the rest of the course.

So, if you think you couldn't possible do Tough Mudder because you can't run, or are unfit, or have a bad back.  Actually, you might just be able to do it :) (I am not a doctor so don't take this as medical advice, it's just my personal experience.)

Watching and OMGbusy

Where was I? In India right?

But then I'm too busy and we took a million pictures (about 6000 actually, crazy right?) and life's too full on.  Also, now I'm here I'd post some piccies but my harddrive is crapping itself and won't show my pics to me so I can choose a few to show to you.  Next time.

I've been sneaking in blog reading while I'm driving to and fro from all my multiple roles.  Very naughty, but I try to read only at lights and when stuck in traffic jams.  But, when I read blogs on my phone I can't comment 'cause Feedly is weird with comment boxes and so is Safari and I've been watching my bloggy friends have crappy awful dreadful times and not commenting not because I don't care but because life is too hectic.

I've stolen a night here and am posting and commenting up a storm.

I was horribly spasm-y and in pain all through May and then in June we went to Tuscany for a week, followed by France for another week.  Imagine that! Two international trips in one year.  I could get used to that.  Except I got dreadfully ill on the plane over there and stayed sick (got a weird virus, lost my voice and was exhausted and flat) the WHOLE time we were away.  Loved Tuscany (again), love Italy full stop. Visited the town my Grandpa was born in.  Loved that too. Loved the Loire.  OMG CHATEAUX. Azay le Rideau. OMG. Chateau d'Amboise OMG-er.  And then we went to Chenonceau. OMG-est.  I can't believe it's a real castle and not a movie set. Extraordinarily beautiful.  Paris did not stir my heart as much as anywhere in Italy though.  I expected to adore Paris, but I merely adored the shopping. The rest I liked.  Except Sacre Coeur which was very beautiful, which I was not expecting at all.


So, other life...

Work is cray-cray as the teens say. In fact it's all cray-cray.

TLG is not little. He's 10 now and I am dying for the love of him.  He's sugar and spice and all things nice, without the bows and pink and ribbons because he's a boy and that rhyme got it all wrong - there's no slugs and snails in my little love.  He's playing footy, which he adores, and doing really well.  His team is awesome good and will probably make the finals!  School is ok, he got a crappy effort report which has inspired lots of conversations about "listening ears" and "quiet mouth" and "actually DOING your work" from me.

TBG is also playing footy which is super-stupid as he's so ancient. He's hurt himself in 5 out of 6 games he's played. Also hurt himself in training sessions. Hurt so bad, he limped around Europe with a torn Achilles. But he loves it and is very cute in his footy uniform and refuses to stop playing saying his body "just needs to get used to it"!

The middle guy is no longer middle sized.  Though shorter than tBG he is far heavier and has been made to exercise now.  This appears to kill him as he would much rather be left alone in his room to read manga cartoons and eat lollies. He failed some exams which was super-wonderful as he'd done NO prep for them and he thought he could just skate on though. Ummm, no. You have to know maths and sciences (the subjects he's picked) in order to be able to regurgitate them. I was actually very happy he failed the exams as (hopefullypleasegod) he'll learn from this (finally) and actually pull his finger out and giveafuck about life besides manga and lollies.  Who knows.

The perfect princess needs a new moniker because she's no longer reaping the benefits of a nailed position as perfect child.  She's full of imperfections which completely expected. I'll call her The Teen Angster (TTA) from now on.  If she can angst about something she will. Briefly. And then she moves right on seemingly having instantly forgotten her angst-i-ness. Weird.  I do remember how strange it was to be 13.  Full of awakenings and ill-defined longings and a need to be thought of as grown-up. While being completely childish still.

I am working in a hospital this year diagnosing kids in the paediatric developmental disabilities clinic.  If public work wasn't SO shockingly paid I'd think about doing it full-time.  But no. The hourly rate for a hospital psych is atrocious so if I do it in my future career, it'll be strictly part-time and basically for the altruistic good of the public.

PhD is going along.  Nuff said. Anxiety rears it's head too easily if I think about it.

There. Braindump and catchup done.  One of my cats just brought one of my slippers almost to me while meowing.  She does that. I just wish I could train her to bring both of them all the way to me.

Night night dears.

Superwoman cannot exist

If you haven't read this post from Mel, then you should.  It's awesome.  I'm going to quote the best part here.

"Essentially what we’re asking women to do, and shaming them when they can’t, is to be superwomen.  We should not get pregnant as teens because that would not be socially responsible, and we’d be a burden on the system because we’d possibly require social assistance.  THEN we should go to college and set ourselves up for a sweet career because women! can! do! anything! and! they! should! do! everything!  THEN right as we’re building our careers, we should settle down, preferably with a man because then we’ll be able to get right into the unassisted babymaking (not that they’re making any heterosexist commentary with these campaigns, right?), while working the full time job.  THEN, because we’re young and fecund, we’ll have said baby, while not taking any time off (because maternity leave is annoying to everyone judging by the sighs people use when they discuss someone in their office going on maternity leave) but breastfeeding exclusively (because don’t you love your baby?) while simultaneously spinning multiple assignments at work.  And volunteering because you don’t want to be a dick and not volunteer.  And hosting dinner parties.  And still having sex with your partner (we’re assuming he’s a man — though don’t call us heterosexist just because we are).  And making dinner for that widow at church.  And calling your mother.  And throwing a pinterest birthday party!"

Yes indeedy, the Taj Mahal was astounding

Can you even believe I got this shot! What symmetry. It's an unbelievable building in person. Photos can't capture the size of it, nor the beauty.

Mum looking back at the side of the Taj from the Mosque.

Looking down the archways at Agra Fort

The mirror tiles of the Maharani's astoundingly beautiful dressing room which we saw secretly.

Looking through to the Taj from the window in the Red Fort that Shah Jahan was locked up in by his son. We were told that once the Shah's eyesight failed he was provided with a mirror that reflected and magnified the Taj so he could still see it and that he died looking at the Taj. Interestingly the Western history of the Taj Mahal is very romantic and many myths surround it. From what historical records tell us (or don't), Shah Jahan did not dismember the wrokers or blind the architects, nor was there ever any evidence of the alleged Black Taj. 

Sunset at Fatehpur Sikri, an abandoned palace complex. Akbar the Great spent so much time overseeing the building of this complex only to leave once it was completed as there wasn't enough water (and also the region was militarily unstable). It was beautiful to note that throughout the palace Akbar had honoured the religions of his wives, we saw Hindu, Jain and Islamic symbology mixed together all through the place.

OMG Wow - India Part 1

Long time no write peeps.

India was amazing.  We all loved it, no one got horribly sick, we had extraordinary experiences and fell in love with the whole place.

Goodbye Australia!

Hello river cruise in Bangkok - lots of fun, beautiful land, we have friends there so we stayed with them and were thoroughly spoiled.

Kolkata - noisy, dirty, alive. Our first taste of India, only one night there in transit. Kids were flabbergasted and horrified and delighted all at once. So were we adults.

 We visited the Mother House, this is her grave. Beautiful sentiment.

Next stop Varanasi, the peaceful Mother Ganga and beauty in old ruins.

More to come.
xx to all

100,000 rupees will make a difference

We're off to India in 2 days. Prepared as much as possible and bearing a huge donation for Seva Mandir.

I am so delighted that I had the idea to fundraise and that it happened - double what I hoped for. We can make change. We are making change.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Please help

We are off to India in January for 3 weeks. All the kids, my Mum, tBG and me.

I think we're going to have an awfully big adventure. Half the people I speak to think it will be a terrible adventure, the other half think it will be a wonderful adventure. Everyone agrees that it will be challenging on many, many levels.

One of the challenges we've anticipated will be the poverty. What to do about the beggars, how to do it without feeling heartless and unkind, how to do it without supporting a ruthless industry, how to do it without ignoring pain and suffering, how to do it and stay ok in our hearts.

We've talked to the children about what they may see, we've watched a stack of travel shows and read blogs and looked at pictures, they understand that India is very very different to Australia. But they don't know it. It's not in their bones and nor in mine.

So what we've decided to do is to make a difference while we're there by funding an organisation that works in the community, with the community. We're raising money for Seva Mandir and then when we're in Rajasthan we'll get to meet some of the people who work for the organisation and give them the money we've raised. We'll be providing funds for non-formal education centres, or for an immunisation program like this one, or maybe to help fund healthcare for women and children.

I've set up a My Cause page. If you can, I'd really appreciate your help in raising funds for this.
I want our kids to see that we can help, that we can make a difference. Not just be tourists.

No donation is too small, not when the wage for an agricultural worker in Rajasthan is less than 100INR per day ($1.80 USD, $1.70 AUD) ... and women get paid less.

Please visit http://www.mycause.com.au/mycause/raise_money/fundraise.php?id=55535 and help us help others.

10 years ago

10 years ago I was 10 weeks pregnant with my own best Little Guy.

Today, instead of writing a paper like I should have been, I was trawling through iVillage archives and finding all the posts I made from 2002 onward in the forums there, documenting my pregnancy adventure. Copying/pasting them, into a diary of sorts, and remembering how I felt. It's bizarre going so far back in time and reading old younger me. I was so sad at first when I got pregnant. I spent the first 8 weeks crying about it. TLG was completely unplanned and I was preparing to leave my XH when we got pregnant. And so when I discovered it I felt so incredibly trapped and forlorn   Also, the hormones just about killed me with moodiness.  But once I hit the 8 week mark I felt beatific instead of sad. And I stayed like that the rest of the pregnancy.  Delighted, wondrous, happy beyond compare.

How I wish I had been able to experience that again.  This time I wouldn't have been at all sad, not one tiny bit.  But no matter how hard I wish, how much I want it, it's just not happening.  Mostly I'm ok. Sometimes I'm completely not.

Today, not.

Truthfully internet, some days even looking at pictures of baby Little Guy makes me cry, he was so small for such a short time, and now he's all big and I'm terrified of losing him. What about when he stops cuddling and kissing me with love.  He still does, but I know that the time is drawing ever closer when he pulls back.  I don't want him to.  I'll be lost without his affection.  And what about when he gets older and marries.  What if his wife doesn't like me? What if she won't let him see me? How will I live with that? Then the other day, my Mum offhandedly said something about daughters being the ones who look after their aged parents.  I don't have a daughter. What about when I'm an old old lady, will tLG visit me and do all the things I see my Mum doing for her Mum, will he care? It breaks my heart to have him growing up and away from me.

Things I love

I love the $2.80 Japanese store near our house. First because it's a "$2.80 store" - no round dollar amounts for them! And secondly, because of it's amazingly awesome stock. Case in point ...

Haven't you always wanted your house to smell like a Resort Wedding? I know I have.

And what about smelling like New York ... wait, what? Like hobos and smog? Like vomit and subway steam? I'm not so sure I want my house to smell like that. But then I read the top of the bottle (which I photographed badly, so you can't see it properly) - it says "Unisex Citrus".  Do you think that's how New York wants to be known?

In other news of things I love, there's this musician:

... and this musician too:

Do listen to them for me.



Then there's this incredibly cute ratty with his little ratty-sleepy-pal and his astoundingly tiny and hand-like paws:

And finally, there's this table that contains phrases I am sure I will both write AND really mean

40 for fuck's sake

So.

I'm 40 now.

I turned officially old and my internal teenager is completely horrified.

I had an awesome party with as many people who like or love me as could attend and said "Goodbye 39" in fine style.

I've thought about this post for a while and I still don't know what to say. It really sucked to be turning 40.

When I remove my infertility-smog-coloured glasses and look back at the past years I can see that lots of wonderful things happened, but with them on it's all tinted gray ... and the lustre, the shine of the awesome is dulled. I think I would be so much more grateful for my what-really-were-fantastic-30s had I not spent so much time and emotion chasing a futile dream.

C'est la vie.

I hope you are all well. I stalk around on the outskirts of your blogs occasionally, but mostly I'm completely swamped by life and my multiple roles. I'm loving placement and finding that providing intervention for little kids with ASD is incredibly rewarding. I'm winding up at work with a huge global survey that's killing me, but once it's collected I'm done there. And I'm slowly reading and getting my head around my PhD topic, which is also huge and doing my head in. My family are well; my darling Little Guy is no longer a baby, showing his abilities and his love in new ways every day. My step-children are growing up quickly into lovely young adults who delight me. Life moves so quickly. My Big Guy is, as always, completely wonderful and wonderfully devoted, a blessing in no disguise.

x
Pundy

crack pie

I've gooed and gaahed over the Momofuku Crack Pie recipe for ages (seriously, almost 2 years!).

This Easter weekend we are off to a friend's for a board-game-and-fiesta evening and then tomorrow off to the XHs house for Easter lunch with him and the Little Guy. So I decided to give it a go! The recipe makes 2 pies, so both of my "we'll bring dessert" promises could come true in one fell swoop. [By the way, I am such a terrible English-nazi - when I've seen "one foul swoop" I just cringe. Tell me I'm not alone?]

Anyway, they're in the oven cooking now and I'm pretty sure I've buggered up the recipe. Damn you Amnericans for using different names for ingredients. I thought "heavy cream" surely meant extra thick double cream (which is HEAVY). But after mixing it through my sugary filling I realised I may have erred. Chef-Google tells me that your heavy cream is my thickened, pouring cream. Which explains why my filling would not pour out of the bowl, but had to be scooped in and forced to spread.

The mix tasted ok though, so fingers crossed.

I think I also stuffed up the 'golden brown sugar' thing too. I used brown sugar...

...but I think I was suposed to use this, which is waaaaay lighter.

Oh well, it's looking ok as it comes out of the oven so hopefully it will taste good too.

Note to self: stop trying out brand-new recipes on other people. And this is my 200th post :)

Editing to add: it tasted amazing but I'll not be making that again unless I need dessert for a lot of people because Crack Pie is richer than the richest pie on Rich St in Richtown in Richworld.

Here is A Table for Two's Aussie conversion pie recipe

Momofuku Milk Bar's Crack Pie (Adapted from The Los Angeles Times)
Serves 6 to 8

Cookie for the crust
Ingredients
2/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon (3 ounces) flour
Scant 1/8 teaspoon baking powder
Scant 1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) softened butter
1/3 cup (2 1/2 ounces) light brown sugar
3 tablespoons (1 1/4 ounces) sugar
1 egg
Scant 1 cup (3 1/2 ounces) rolled oats (or cornflakes crumbs)
Method
1. Heat the oven to 375 degrees fahrenheit (190 degree celcius).
2. In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
3. In the bowl of a stand mixer using the paddle attachment, or in a large bowl using an electric mixer, beat the butter, brown sugar and sugar until light and fluffy.
4. Whisk the egg into the butter mixture until fully incorporated.
5. With the mixer running, beat in the flour mixture, a little at a time, until fully combined. Stir in the cornflakes until incorporated.
6. Spread the mixture onto a 9-inch-by-13-inch baking sheet and bake until golden brown and set, about 20 minutes.
7. Remove from heat and cool to the touch on a rack.
8. Crumble the cooled cookie to use in the crust.

Pie Crust
Ingredients
Crumbled cookie for crust
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
1 1/2 tablespoons
(3/4 ounce) brown sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
Method
1. Combine the crumbled cookie, butter, brown sugar and salt in a food processor and pulse until evenly combined and blended (a little of the mixture clumped between your fingers should hold together).
2. Press the crust into tart pan shell to form a thin, even layer along the bottom and sides of the tins.
3. Set the prepared crusts aside while you prepare the filling.


Pie Filling
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups (10 1/2 ounces) sugar
3/4 cup plus a scant 3 tablespoons (7 ounces) light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup plus 1  teaspoon (3/4 ounce) milk powder
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, melted
3/4 cup plus a scant 2 tablespoons heavy cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
8 egg yolks
2 prepared crusts
Powdered sugar, garnish

Method
1. Heat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit (175 degree Celcius).
2. In a large bowl, whisk together the sugar, brown sugar, salt and milk powder. Whisk in the melted butter, then whisk in the heavy cream and vanilla.
3. Gently whisk in the egg yolks, being careful not to add too much air.
4. Fill the tin shell.
5. Bake the pie for 15 minutes, then reduce the heat to 325 degrees (160 degree celcius) and bake until the filling is slightly jiggly and golden brown (similar to a pecan pie), about 10 minutes.
6. Remove the pies and cool on a rack.
7. Refrigerate the cooled pies until well chilled. The pies are meant to be served cold, and the filling will be gooey.
Dust with powdered sugar before serving.

Fresh Horses - life as we know it

I'm loving Eden's Fresh Horses meme. It's on the weekend, so I can always find the time and she thinks up the idea for me - brilliant!!!  Today's theme was Picture This.

Someone wanted a Captain America helmetymasky thing - continuing his trend of asking for very specific costumery. I was very proud of my effort!

Summer afternoon at the beach - catching the end of a hot day with the dogs.

The Big Guy and I had a naughty weekend in Sydney recently, this is the best view from a train platform evah :)

Have you got some pics to show me?

Fresh Horses - partay with the tyger

Eden told me do it.

I had a poem in my head long before I ever heard all of it.  Snippity snappets of it were rattling around clinking and clanking and brightly banging its sweet rhythms in bursts of sharp taste.

So one day when I was about 15, long before the internet would have made it easy, I hunted for the snatches I knew I'd heard. When I heard it all, it resonated, but I really couldn't tell you why. I hope you like it too. (Thank you William Blake.)



Tyger, Tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger, Tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?



Editing later to add: My other choice was Dylan Thomas' Do not go gentle into that good night. And the birthday thing didn't click when I posted this earlier ... thank goodness I didn't choose that poem, Happy Birthday Eden!