Archive for the ‘randomized’ Category

A whole new game.

October 6, 2013

Now, don’t panic: I’m keeping this blog.

But I’ve also started another one I’m happy to let you have the address for.

I get stuck easily, though. That’s why I’ve not been writing here. Because I’ve been thinking about my desire to stop being anonymous on the internet, particularly after a (short) string of paid writing work, and I knew I wanted to start a new blog, but I just hit pause in  my mind.

TMD took the kids out today for a couple of hours, and I spent the time on my arthritic laptop setting up the basic features on a new blog. I have exactly one post up. It’s all self conscious and assholey because I wasn’t necessarily in THE MOOD to write, but I needed to get something out because otherwise I don’t think the pause button would ever be unpaused.

Other things on pause: my vulva. Consultant dermatologist reckons I’ve got some weird skin infection that can cause brown spots on the vulva. Yeah, really. She’s given me steroids and I have to apply cream twice a day, steroids once. It’s like I’m Snort with skin problems, except….well, not. Anyway, I go back in three months. If the spots are still there, then they get chopped off and biopsied. GOOD TIMES.


Back to the other blog stuff.

I’m worried about it. I’m worried about writing about how awesome I think unschooling is, because I don’t want to alienate or hurt friends with kids in school. Which is TOTALLY RIDICULOUS because I am not offended when these people write about how good school is for their kids, so  maybe I should stop worrying.

But how can I tell you the new address? It is

So I guess if you are my facebook friend, you may know my full name? Or if you followed me on twitter @existere, that links to my new real name twitter account, which links to the blog.

OR you leave a comment here with your email address and I’ll email you the address of the new blog. It has pictures of faces on and everything. Don’t feel embarrassed to get in touch even if you never have before. I had one other blog before this one, and it was much more widely followed. I closed that blog so I could write about my experiences working as a therapist on this one, and issued a similar call for comments and email addresses. And you know, I met some interesting people. Many people were just a ‘Hi, here’s my new blog address’ sort of thing, but some? Some were more. It was nice.

Catch you on the flip side.


September 23, 2013

Scary vulva appointment today. I’m …well, scared.

But also looking forward to a bit of alone time.

Ah, our dual natures.

Send me good vibes.

How have YOU been?

September 18, 2013

Finding it hard to get going this morning. We are due at a friend’s house at 11. It’s almost nine and I’m still naked, albeit not technically as I have a fluffy robe on.

So much going on at the end of this week and all next week – snort’s annual allergy thing, my crazy vulva appointment, two pottery classes, friends, new boiler which apparently necessitates FIL staying here for a week (goodbye naked mornings, my friends), etc. And another tooth went haywire, so the kids had another opportunity to observe dental work, x rays, chat with the dentist.

The big tasks make me tired. Because I’d love a run of a few days of nothing, where we could just luxuriate in being slugs. It’s the little things that exhaust me – packing lunches, medication, brushing teeth, etc.

I don’t know how we don’t seem to have time to do everything would like – like a weekly swim, because DUDE. I don’t work, the kids aren’t in school, and we managed to spend the afternoon yesterday in my bed watching a movie. Life feels very full, and for the kids I think their most absorbing moments are when they are deep in play, either alone or with each other. More and more I am called over for incidentals – untangling string, snapping in a tricky bit of Lego, etc – but they can play with their minds, the world, rocks, concurs, toys for ages.

Not sure where this post is going, but I suspect it is a great way to procrastinate taking a shower and making packed lunches.

In other news, I just discovered the Goodbin Bynto boxes online. Snort wants red, Coco wants yellow but will settle for green. I have to order the green from abroad, and somehow it is cheaper to pay international shipping than to just order from the actual website for our area. But of course abroad doesn’t sell red. BASTARDS.

This is a first world problem, a first world ramble, but so help me god, as soon as TMD gets paid I want to get these boxes. I totally want the pink one for ME. And the stickers. And one for TMD.

The end.

The prodigal daughter.

September 17, 2013

I haven’t disappeared.

Rather, things are changing. I don’t know how to explain it, because on the surface nothing has. Except, I suppose, the kids are now officially home educated, which is quite a big deal – and also not, because it means we just carry on as we are.

I’ve opened a new blog. I’m tired of being anonymous. I want pictures with heads on, I want you to know what my name is, I want to connect more easily with people.

I don’t have any posts on the new blog yet, but will direct you folks over to it when I do. I’ll probably keep this blog, too.

I don’t know. I’m half decision making, half just living in the now. More immersed. But as winter comes, so does a different rhythm.

I AM on twitter under my real name. I’ve linked to it from my existere account, which is now private. So you can find me there, or alternatively, leave a comment below with your email address and I will give you my new twitter handle.

I’ve found it hard to go from a fast paced twitter life with lots of friends to trying to rebuild a community for myself, but decided it was harder to keep the same account but erase all references to anonymity.

I find NOT being anonymous sort of tricky, because it has been so easy to talk about poop and mooncups and penis infections, but I’m finding my way.

I miss you guys.

Lots of things are more historic than a new famous baby.

July 22, 2013

A lot of historic things have happened in the last week. Marriage equality has happened here. TMD and I went away alone for a night. The kids’ adoption went through – we had no idea till today. But after almost exactly four years, the kids finally have two legal mothers.

And another thing. I wore skintight cropped leggings on the past two evenings for my walk. That shit is something I never thought I would say.

They are so gross but SO COMFORTABLE.

I am trying to reemerge, folks. These nightly walks have literally taken all my time and energy. It is a big commitment. I have a rest when TMD gets home, because my days can be tiring but also because it is currently hotter than the sun, then go on late night walks and come home and write a bit about them.

Oh, the sheer rocky ride of finding the discipline to go out every single night. It has been a tough settling in period, and even now, on day thirty four, I wouldn’t say I’ve settled. I have missed three nights – two due to pelvis problems, one due to a cat slashing my fucking toe open – but I am getting there.

More and more I am thinking about starting a more public blog. I miss posting pictures with heads, real names, being more easily able to connect with people who live near me. I hung out with a good friend I met courtesy of this blog earlier in the week and we discussed this a bit.

I have often started ‘niche’ blogs, only to drop them because I like writing about all of life. So I think a new blog would be like this, but with more personal details…and less ranting about family members. Something to think on. And whether I’d keep this blog going, which I think I might.

It’s a dramatic week. Snort’s collarbone is still causing him pain, I’ve found a brown itchy spot on my labia, of all places, and we both have doctor appointments Thursday. The kids also danced on a stage in front of 7000 people, which was awesome, and I got to hang out with a friend ALL BY MYSELF AT NIGHTTIME. Another historic thing.

The theoretical becomes possible.

June 27, 2013

So, the Supreme Court overturned the Defence of (heterosexual) Marriage Act. I think this means we could all theoretically move to Country A, at least as soon as marriage equality passes in law here. Then our civil partnership could be ‘upgraded’ to a marriage. And then, as far as I understand, the federal government of Country A would have to legally recognise our marriage and we would have a legal leg to stand on if we wished to immigrate.

If I have that wrong, someone please enlighten me.

I read a few minute ago about a binational couple – one was in the midst of being deported when the SCOTUS ruling came out, and the judge immediately stopped the proceeding because, lo and behold, this couple was legally married in a right on state, and therefore entitled to federal benefits…including immigration. Big stuff.

Of course, the rest of the dominos need to fall, the rest of that country needs marriage equality otherwise it is all a colossal head fuck, but still.

This brings real questions about our life up. I have dual citizenship, as do the children. So we could move elsewhere without any legal hassle if we wanted to move back.

But moving to Country A would require such a lifestyle overhaul. I’d probably have to be the one to work while TMD stayed home. We would have to move to a gay friendly state, namely worrying about insurance. Over here, everyone has ‘free’ healthcare. I could break my leg tomorrow and not have to worry about how today for x rays or painkillers. As far as I understand, some states (and most companies) do not allow benefits for same sex partners. Does the ruling stop this? What is the reality of insurance in that country? I’ve never been a real adult there, so I don’t know.

Home education would be protected in the areas we would ever consider moving to. So that isn’t an issue.


Let’s be real, I know what field I would be ready to step back into….though I’d prefer TMD to do it….but it is an incompatible job for married people with a family. Totally time consuming and all encompassing.

I like our lifestyle here. I think moving across the planet is a huge undertaking, even when you are moving back to a country you have lived before. People move on, things change, and when you have lived abroad since your early twenties, well, there’s a lot to learn.

I’d love to live near my family, but I love living here.

I don’t think my mother understands the SCOTUS ruling or the implications. It’s always been easy to try to fob off the guilt trips, considering my relationship had no legal status in Country A. I have a bit more buffer time until the marriage equality law changes here, but the process has already started and it is only a matter of time. Once we are legally married, and Country A is forced to recognise that marriage, well… longer am I an exile. No longer do I HAVE to choose between my wife/family and my birth country.

But you know what, this is my country, too. My home.

No matter where we live, one of us will be far from family. I don’t doubt we would figure things out, probably be very happy in either place. But man, what a lot to think about.

30-365 TWO

June 21, 2013

30-365 TWO

Woah nelly. Decided to wear proper trainers with the orthotics I was prescribed before I was disabled. Big. Mistake. Back of my pelvis was so sore I wondered how I was going to get home at one point – but being alone on a cycle track in the middle of nowhere, the only person who could rescue me was me.

Glad I went. Yesterday I walked on a path I’d never been on, through stunning meadows and trees. Today I walked on a new path, surrounded by trees by right alongside a very busy road that slashed through countryside and rolling hills. Lots of thinking about how nature and people function alongside.

Walked a very sweaty and painful 36 minutes, 3.4 mph, 2.07 miles.

Onward and upward, and thanks to Carrie for the motivation YouTube link this morning!

What I just posted on Facebook. (30/365 ONE)

June 19, 2013

I remember how I felt that evening two years ago when I walked fifteen minutes without any assistance. I dubbed it ‘the summer I would learn to walk again,’ and after two years full time in a wheelchair, and still on crutches every day, it seemed a big task.

I developed symphysis pubis dysfunction during pregnancy, and I still have it – along with the resultant arthritis – today. But I haven’t used a wheelchair in a year, though I’ve had a handful of days where I couldn’t walk. I’ve only used crutches on less than ten occasions.

Today I start a new goal – thirty minutes of walking every day for the next 365 days. Walking can be substituted with a DVD, class, etc. I may have to be flexible in cases of severe relapse or illness, but would prefer to swap walking for meditation or stretching on those occasions.

These thirty minutes have to be separate from whatever other activity I may have done that day – like walking miles at the seaside today and being sore before I even went out this evening!

I’m doing this for head space, for time to rediscover me, to work on my next novel, to explore my neighbourhood, to get more healthy – and I guess, I’m doing this because I’m just so grateful I can. After being told I may be in a wheelchair for life, after finally coming close to coming to terms with daily, chronic pain, I can walk. I don’t want to forget how amazing that is.


So here is where you come in. I’m posting this publicly because I need support. I know my motivation will flag and I will want to give up. I need likes and comments and support. I won’t flood your news feeds and I will never write a status this long again, but I WILL post every day.

Today is day one. I walked for 33 minutes, 2 mph, for 1.11 miles.

God help me to not punch her in the throat.

June 14, 2013

We have booked two nights away in a hotel so we can attend an unschooling conference later this summer. The kids will be sleeping at their Nana’s, after she agreed to it….after a lot of thinking and etc etc.

A few months ago they had their first sleepover there. It was fine.

We wanted to have a few practice runs, but chicken pox and life got in the way.

So last night, Mil had them again.

It’s the morning after the night before, and I have just had the whiniest, most self-pitying, complainy fucking phone call you can imagine. She is so tired.. Snort had a very bad night. Blah blah blah.

And the kicker? She ‘doesn’t think she can have them for that weekend. She can’t cope.’

She said all this like she is SO EXHAUSTED she is MORE EXHAUSTED than any human being who has ever walked the face of this most depressing, selfish earth.

I’m like, ‘Bitch, I KNOW how tiring it is. We have been doing this for FOUR YEARS. You have had them two nights. The other gazillion nights are all on us.’

I didn’t say that, but I thought it. Especially as she was telling me how nauseated she gets when she wakes up at night. How she had trouble falling back asleep. How she’s not sure how much sleep she got.

I’m like, look, I know you are tired. I totally get that. But can you get over yourself for one second? We booked this weekend at the beginning of February, we spent a lot of money on conference tickets and a hotel room. So you might have one exhausting weekend. Can’t you just fucking DEAL? You don’t work and can rest the following week. For shizzle.

I mean, Jesus. I may sound entitled here, but I don’t think it’s too much to expect for her to honour a commitment she made months ago when we have no backup. In the last FOUR YEARS, she has had them two nights and one whole day. Yes, she does have them a couple of hours each week while I take the other to activities, and I appreciate that, but UGH ARGH ETC.

The flip side, of course, is do I want them to stay with her if she may be mean? Apparently Snort wasn’t tired at bedtime. She wouldn’t let his granddad play with him because it would rile him up, so he just sobbed he was so unhappy. She made him sit in a chair with a mussie. He then decided to go up to bed while still crying. My poor boy!

A bit of flexibility is a great thing when dealing with grandchildren. And a bit of HONOURING YOUR FUCKING AGREEMENT is a great thing as well.


That sense of possibility. It never gets old.

June 13, 2013

There is something special about being in that time of life when everything is sexy and full of possibly.

As a teen, one of my best friends was very different than me. She went to a state school and I went to private – there was more to it than that, but that seemed to be the major difference. Her friends from her school called me ‘Mary’ as I went to Catholic school.

I had my first alcoholic drink with her. She was fucking daring; she mixed my mother’s Peach Schnapps with orange juice and we drank on the balcony off the kitchen. She knew people our age who had kids. She took me to parties where people smoked pot. We sometimes bought Coke just to drink a bit and pour rum in the bottle. This was serious shit, very real and different and risky.

Her windshield had a big crack through it, she knew tonnes of cute boys, I helped her stalk ex boyfriends. We drove around for hours, listening to her country music – some songs I have such a deep nostalgic fondness for because of the hours spent with her.

As it turns out, both myself and her male best friend ended up being gay, which is neither here nor there, but in those heady days it was about flirting and drinking and just seeing what it was like to not be me. Her friends thought I was cute. They found Catholic school girls a challenge and sexy and odd, but in an alluring way. She was ballsy and loud and amazing, and it rubbed off on me a bit.

I did a lot of kissing, a lot of stepping outside my comfort zone and discovering I was actually a lot more comfortable when I was outside of the box I’d been raised in. Most of the time, anyway.

When we were about fourteen, long before the drinking and kissing and stalking began, we were at camp. I remember a late night in the counselor’s tent, talking about sex, and we both vowed there was NO WAY we would have sex before marriage. We both broke that vow, but the spirit of it? Two young women so sure of themselves and their beliefs? The beauty of it all was that even when our world views shifted we maintained that sense of self and rightness and boy, did we laugh.