Pages

Sunday, 31 January 2016

Who Needs To Be Nice!

December and all its threats of, "you'd better be good or you won't get anything from Santa!" seems very far away now in the run up to Valentine's Day but for me it is a month when I am glad to have that little something extra in my arsenal when it comes to managing the Dude.  I don't know what it is about December but the Dude's behaviour always takes a dive towards the mid-way mark which traditionally sees him firmly placed on the naughty list.  The second half of the month is usually a focused effort on behalf of myself and Big Daddy to get him on the nice list with lots of cajoling, gentle reminders, pointed discussions and outright threats.

So far we have been successful and every Christmas morning the Dude has awoken to gifts under the tree for him instead of a lump of coal.

Photo of little girl opening a Christmas present and her baby brother smiling in delight
The Dude Has Always Delighted In
Presents Even If they
Weren't His!

However, I have often wondered to what extent we are successfully managing his behaviour or to what extent is he just playing along - letting us think we are in control!

The other day I may have gotten my answer....

It was something of a dodgy weather day so I decided to head to the hairdressers at the local shopping centre and Big Daddy took the kids for a much requested play at the indoor play place. Two hours later I emerged from the salon, thankfully looking more Glammy Mammy and less Granny Mammy! The kids announced they were hungry so we went in search of food (a tad more challenging now since we have a vegetarian in the family).  

We sourced some garlic bread and ordered two portions. The bread looked delicious and La-la shared some of hers with Big Daddy. Not wanting to eat all of hers, Big Daddy asked the Dude for some of his. (Now, it should be stated the Dude has only ever seen food as a means to an end. Eating just gets in the way of his schedule and interrupts all those important things he's got to do, so the Dude only ever eats just enough to take the edge off and keep him going and the rest is usually left there.)

The Dude informed Big Daddy he was starving and he couldn't possibly spare a piece of the garlic bread.  
Big Daddy was shocked.

"What?" he asked, "are you refusing to share your garlic bread with me?"

The Dude fixed him with a, "don't even think about it," glare and said, "yes, I'm hungry."

Still in shock, Big Daddy pressed for confirmation.

"So let me get this straight, I've just spent thirty dollars on taking you to a play place and drinks and another twenty dollars on garlic bread and you can't share some of it with me?"

The Dude looked at him.

"You can go and get your own garlic bread," he pointed out, "I'm eating all of this because I'm hungry."

Big Daddy pointed out that he never finished anything and if he finished the garlic bread it would be the first time in his life he finished a portion of food we bought for him.

The Dude fixed him with a belligerent look and announced, "well I'm eating all of this."

Photo of young boy stuffing his face with bread
Go To Hell Daddy - This Bread Is Mine!

Big Daddy fixed him with an, "ok kid you're on," look and informed him that he'd better finish it or he wasn't getting any ice cream. He pointed out that the Dude could give him a piece of garlic bread now, when it was hot because he wasn't interested in eating a cold piece when the Dude couldn't eat any more and decided to offer what was left to him, just so he could get an ice cream.

The Dude looked Big Daddy in the eye, no overt defiance, nothing, just a quiet declaration, "I'm eating it all."

Big Daddy sat back, sure in the knowledge that in ten minutes we would be dragging a disgruntled seven year old to the car without an ice cream and he would have won this face-off with his son.

An hour later myself and Big Daddy exchanged glances as the Dude sat there quietly getting through the garlic bread. Big Daddy had settled in with some beers. I sipped my water. La-la wondered when we could get ice cream. The Dude looked like he was fit to burst but still he kept putting bite-sized pieces of garlic bread into his mouth. His face was a mask of innocence but I could almost hear the cogs of his mind working overtime. This was a big "screw you" to his parents!

Black and white photo of a young boy fit to burst from eating too much
The Dude Was Starting To Look Something Like This

A half an hour later he was reduced to tearing the garlic bread into tiny pieces and then popping them into his mouth. I've never seen him eat so much food in one sitting before and I knew he was struggling but it was obvious he had no intention of stopping until there wasn't a crumb left. I glanced at Big Daddy who gave me a, "what the hell" look. I tried to hold back the laughter.

The Dude sat there, still with the look of innocence on his face, no defiance, no hint of what he was really up to, except for he was starting to look a little uncomfortable.

I decided to give him an out.

"You know, I'm sure if you apologise to Daddy for being so selfish and explain to him that you won't do it again, he might consider buying you a small ice cream."

The Dude looked at me, curiously, and then proceeded to keep breaking the garlic bread into tiny pieces and forcing them into his mouth.

Fifteen minutes later there wasn't a crumb left. He turned to his Dad and announced, "I'm sorry Daddy but as you can clearly see, I really was very hungry."

Big Daddy was somewhat at a loss. It was obvious we were being played.

Before Big Daddy could say anything, I jumped in.

"Hang on," I said, "are you apologising because you are really sorry or because you just want an ice cream."

He looked at me, a little squeeze of his eyes telling me he resented me calling him out on what he considered the perfect play of his parents.

He hesitated, wondering what was the best way to answer my question. My gaze was unflinching and direct, warning him in no uncertain terms to tell the truth.

He dipped his head.

"Well, I wanted to say sorry but I was angry so I didn't but now I've thought about it and I am really sorry and I won't be so selfish again."

He flicked a look over at his Dad.

"Sorry, Daddy," he said.

"Hmmmm...." Big Daddy replied

"Am I allowed an ice cream?" the Dude asked.

Big Daddy looked at me, with a, "what you wanna do" look on his face.

I asked the Dude if he could possibly fit an ice cream in after all that garlic bread?

He enthusiastically nodded his head.

I waited, letting him stew and then handed down my decision.

"You can get a small ice cream today, you were obviously very hungry (the last comment was to give him the impression we hadn't seen through his actions, I think it's very important for the future that he thinks we're a pair of eejits who he can pull one over on, otherwise he might up his game and then we're totally screwed!) and you told the truth about being angry and I believe your apology to Daddy was genuine. However, you need to lose the selfish 'tude. If there's any more of it going forward then you are going to be a very sorry little boy."

He nodded his head very solemnly but..... I can't be sure, but there may have been a hint of a grin lurking at the edge of his lips.

It's going to be an interesting year.....


Thursday, 24 December 2015

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

The letters have been written.

Photo of letters on a glass table with a Christmas tree in the background.
Letters To Santa

The Christmas Tree is up.

Photo of Christmas Tree
The Christmas Tree

The candle's in the window.

Photo of a candle in the window
The Candle In The Window

The angels are singing.

Photo of straw and glitter traditional style angel decoration from Germany
A Christmas Angel At Mad Mammy Towers

The presents are delivered.

Photo of Christmas tree with lights and presents under it
Presents Under The Tree

Now, let Christmas begin!

Happy Christmas to you all from the Mad Mammy.

Photo of a drawing of a Christmas Tree
La-la's Christmas Tree


Friday, 30 October 2015

I Dream Of Halloween....In Times Past

There's great excitement and planning in the Mad Mammy household this morning as La-la and The Dude put their outfits together for Halloween.  La-la is so tall now she actually fits an adult costume and is going to be a very scary looking Grim Reaper.  She is delighted with herself.  The Dude is thrilled he fits into La-la's costume from last year (as am I!) but has yet to decide exactly on what he is going to be - zombpire, vampire and a mini grim reaper are the current options.  I was supposed to be dressing up as a dementor but as you might have seen on my facebook page that idea was shot down on a number of points and it was decided I should just go as myself, since, both my children are agreed, I'm scary enough!

Photo of young girl dressed in a grim reaper halloween costume
La-la As The Grim Reaper

I love my children's excitement and delight at the prospect of dressing up and going out but I wish I could drum up a little more of it in myself.  Whereas the the trick or treat concept has its roots in history and tradition, I'm afraid the prospect of answering my door all night to a constant stream of kids who half-heartedly mutter, "trick or treat" and then stick a grocery bag in my face so I can top up their already considerable sweet/junk stash, doesn't hold much appeal.  Thankfully, I currently live in a community where there is a Halloween themed event in the local park which is where I'll be going with La-la and The Dude and should miss most of the door-knockers.  Such are the perks of living in Australia, where it's currently springtime and this year it is mercifully cool and still under thirty degrees.

Still, I think back to the fun-filled Halloweens of my childhood and can't help but be a little sad at the realisation my children don't know those sort of halloweens.  They've never dunked for apples, had their fortune told by reading the cards, "heard" the banshee or felt the ice-cold touch of the puca. They've never sat around a blazing fire eating barnbreac (an Irish fruitbread traditionally eaten around Halloween) hoping they'll get the coin, hidden within it, in their slice, thereby guaranteeing them riches for the coming year.  They've never scared the living daylights out of each other with friends by telling ghost stories and stared wide-eyed into the embers of a dying fire, too terrified to go to bed. Okay maybe I can do without the last part, visions of the Dude sleeping in my bed till he's eighteen are enough to terrify me!  However, I'm sure you get the picture, somewhere along the way I feel the fun of Halloween has been lost to a going through the motions exercise known as "trick or treat" which only seems to be a means to a very sugary and additive laden end.


A photo of barnbreac - a traditional fruitbread eaten on Halloween in Ireland
Barnbreac - A Traditional Fruitbread Eaten In Ireland
on Halloween

Last year I promised myself I would organise a Halloween party along the lines of a more traditional Halloween like the ones I experienced.  However, even after three years of living in Australia, I'm still not used to the fact Halloween is in Springtime.  My internal clock just doesn't get it and therefore my mental faculties don't receive the Halloween alert, so here I am yet again planning costumes at the last minute and intending to do the absolute minimum to get through it.

The Dude keeps pestering me as I write for face paint (we don't have any!) and to come and help him make a scythe (!)  He has obviously decided on the Grim Reaper option.  He is now singing the "death song" his sister made up and now she has just lodged a complaint about him copying her and huffed off, not very happy.  It's still only 9:30 in the morning!  It's shaping up to be something of a horror filled day for me.  I hope it's better for you.  Happy (?) Halloween!

Photo of young boy dressed in a grim reaper outfit for halloween
The Dude And His Little Feet
As The Grim Reaper



Tuesday, 13 October 2015

Here's To You Mr. Robinson

The Mad Mammy has been wandering and I was all set to write a nice little post about my recent wanderings when I decided on a spot of procrastination instead and where better to indulge in that particular passing of the time than on facebeook.  Whilst there I came across a fabulous TED talk by Sir Ken Robinson, a man who believes we need to acknowledge multiple types of intelligence, cultivate creativity and radically rethink our education systems.  And I just happen to agree with him! However, Sir Ken puts it much more eloquently than me.

Photo of man in his fifties wearing a dark jumper and dark glasses
Sir Ken Robinson


Click on the link below and check out what he has to say.  You won't be sorry.

http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity



Thursday, 10 September 2015

Fat-shaming And Why It's NOT Okay.

There was a video doing the social media rounds this week of a vile rant against fat people by a woman calling herself a comedian.  Now, in my book, a comedian is a title reserved for someone who is funny and makes people laugh by telling jokes or funny stories.  There was nothing remotely funny about this woman and what she had to say.  After having her video pulled by youtube and google, she then tried to claim it was because these companies didn't understand satire.  Satire requires a certain level of intelligence to carry it off and again this was something that was not evident in this woman's video, which, no matter what way she wanted to tag it, was simply a rant outlining her own personal views.

To be fair, the video  had a lot of shares and there were those who even applauded what this woman had to say.  Thankfully, there were a lot more people who thought what she had to say was disgusting and there were even a number of response videos.

I'm not naming the woman here and neither am I featuring the video as I don't want to give her even two more seconds of "fame" than she deserves and I also don't want to be responsible for sharing what I consider to be "hate speech".

It's alarming enough to me that "fat-shaming" has become a thing - like it's okay.  It is NOT okay!

It is not okay to make anybody feel of any less worth than you.  If you feel the need to do this then this means there is something wrong with YOU not the person you are attacking.

If you choose to spend your days counting every calorie that passes your lips and validate your self-worth via how many hours you spend in the gym, then good for you.  If that's what you need to feel like you count, then go for it.  However, DO NOT make the mistake of thinking that everybody else should judge themselves by the same things that you have chosen to build your self-worth upon and DO NOT JUDGE THEM BECAUSE THEY HAVEN'T CHOSEN THE SAME THINGS AS YOU.

People derive their self-worth from a whole host of things other than their physical appearance.  For many it is how many times they made someone smile in a day, how they could be of help to others, showing kindness and consideration, being brave in the face of adversity, their honesty, kindness and compassion. The list goes on......  

Sadly, the obsession with physical appearance has somehow translated into a general belief that people must be thin to value themselves or to be valued by others.  This bullshit needs to STOP!

We need to start accepting that there are all different shapes and sizes in the world.  We need to stop defining our self-worth and that of others by some media-defined look.  

I'm all for healthy eating and regular exercise but that will translate into different shapes and sizes for different people - we need to understand this and to accept it.

Judging and shaming people based solely on their physical appearance is simply unacceptable.

As an overweight woman, I am subjected to other peoples' negative beliefs about me all the time and they couldn't be further from the truth.  Thankfully, I base my self-worth on much more than what I look like but it still pisses me off when people assume I never exercise and spend my days stuffing my face.  

I really don't know where one person gets off making assumptions and judgements about another.  To do this about a whole sector of society, to make a video of it and to then share it across social media is, in my opinion, not remotely funny.  To purposely make another human being feel they count less in this world through ridicule or shame is more of a reflection on the person doing the ridiculing and shaming than the person who is their target.

Below, is a video that I much prefer to share with you about a woman who struggles with her self-esteem because of the way she looks.  She very bravely "put herself out there" and the result is wonderful.




Today is International Suicide Prevention Day (Sept 10th) and this blog post is in memory of someone who felt the weight of others' and her own shame so much in relation to her physical appearance that she decided to end her own life.  She was someone who shared her kindness, compassion and wonderful smile with me until a time when she could smile no more.  





Sunday, 16 August 2015

When Illness Masquerades As "Wellness"

It seems you can't open a paper or magazine or go online these days without being bombarded by a relentless stream of selfies of celebrities posting photos of their abs or asses.  The photo is usually of them in the latest gym gear and possibly even with a slight sheen of sweat on their skin to reassure us they have indeed just come from a marathon gym session.  Whereas the narcissistic self-promotion of your average celebrity is something we have all come to accept as part of our culture there has been a more worrying development in recent years  - the rise of the so-called "wellness" blogger.  



Photo of Kim Kardashian in a gym, dressed in black, taking  a selfie
Kim Kardashian - The Selfie Queen

Many of these grew out of the all prevailing celebrity culture with the earlier ones being trainers or dieticians who helped celebrities get in shape, most notably after having a baby.  However, in recent times there has been an explosion of these types of blogs across social media and it seems anyone who looks lean in lycra feels qualified to share their daily efforts with the rest of the world and dish out advice as to how, you too, can look "lycra lean".  And people (especially women in the 16 - 30 age bracket) can't get enough of them.  

The problem is very few of these people are properly qualified to be dishing out any sort of advice and if they do have any sort of minimum qualification it tends to be in only one area such as a personal trainer certificate but lacking in any proper qualifications to do with nutrition and dietary requirements. 

The bigger problem is that all too often what is presented by these people as an obsession with wellness is in reality masking a serious illness.  Eating disorders have been well documented for the past fifty years and despite recognition by the medical and psychiatric communities and frequent awareness campaigns, admissions to hospitals and treatment centres continue to rise.

The link between unrealistic and unobtainable body image in the media and the rise in eating disorders has been well documented and in recent years there have been many high profile campaigns by leading brands to address this.  Which makes the whole "wellness" craze currently sweeping social media all the more difficult to understand.

It's something I've noticed has intensified over the last eighteen months and is an issue I have to admit to having a sort of morbid fascination with.  I'm a relatively fit, healthy woman who is also overweight.  I believe in eating a healthy diet and taking regular exercise.  Admittedly, I detest gyms. I prefer my exercise to take place outside - walking, swimming, hiking, surfing, snow-boarding - you name it, if it's in the great outdoors, I'm there.  That some other people are into a particular sport or want to take their fitness to a level other than mine is something I don't have a problem with.

What I do have a problem with is when people are presenting a lifestyle that is supposed to be about the attainment of health but in reality is the exact opposite.  I have a problem with people who are, in reality, suffering from eating disorders espousing and prescribing dietary and exercise regimes that lead to ill health both mentally and physically.

So much of this "wellness" philosophy has suspect psycho-babble at its core in the form of what are supposed to be slogans designed to inspire but are really cynical exercises in self-loathing and shame.  Just a quick look at one of the "fitspooration" websites has thrown up a number of these:

"Suck it up now and you won't have to suck it in later."
"Stress is caused by giving a fuck."
"Go hard or go home."

It's all about push, push, push.  There doesn't seem to be any emphasis on enjoyment of exercise but only on exercise as a means to an end and that end of course is the attainment  of a body type that is all too unrealistic in so many cases.

Then there's the shaming of those who don't work out as this little beauty demonstrates:


Why people who choose not to spend hours in a gym should be deemed as leading a "mediocre life" or be considered as anything less than those who do is beyond me. Believe me, there is nothing mediocre about my life! And of course this leads to the development of superiority complexes and feeds the general narcissism that is so much part of this "wellness" craze.  

Then there is the promotion of dietary supplements such as protein shakes that are so often recommended not as meal supplements but meal replacements.

For the life of me I cannot figure out how the promotion of deprivation and hunger and exercising the body to the point of exhaustion can be believed to be in any way about "wellness".  This  is an illness, a pathology and it needs to be seen for what it is.  Wellness is about nourishment of the body, mind and soul NOT punishment.

The following article is taken from this Sunday's Daily Mail and is an insight into the world of some of these "wellness" bloggers.  I found it fascinating and it's what prompted me to write about this subject today.  It's a subject that causes me great consternation as I face the challenge of rearing my children in a world that is increasingly obsessed with the attainment of a body image that comes at the expense of so much else.  I can't do an awful lot about it but I can call bullshit when I see it and when someone is promoting starvation and excessive exercise as "wellness" then I say they need to stop and see that what they are really promoting is "illness".

Exposed: The sick truth behind the great 'wellness' blog craze taking social media by storm and one online star battling a secret fitness addiction.


  • Celia Learmonth is one of a handful of bloggers with thousands of fans
  • At 21 she is enviably lithe but admits to seeking help at an eating clinic.

  • She survives on little more than avocado and eggs and exercises daily
  • Experts warn of the dangers of health and fitness social media craze.
  •  

By POPPY CROSS FOR THE MAIL ON SUNDAY

This may come as a shock to at least some of fitness blogger Celia Learmonth’s 20,000 Instagram followers: ‘I’m trying to get help at an eating disorder clinic,’ she bravely admits. 

On her site, London Fitness Guide, the beautiful and enviably lithe 21-year-old dishes out advice on exercise, diet and how to have a healthy lifestyle – along with a steady stream of selfies.

Live like her, look like her. That’s the message. But having known her for a while, I suspected that what lay beneath the flawless facade was something more sinister.



photo of Celia Learmonth, wellness blogger in a yoga like pose on a bridge
Celia Learmonth - "Wellness" blogger

I once ran into her coming out of the loo before a gym class looking very bleary-eyed. I asked if she was OK, and she admitted that she’d been sleeping in the cubicle, as she was so exhausted.


Still, I was stunned at what she admitted: she’s been putting herself through regular six-hour exercise marathons and 14 miles of walking a day, fuelled by little more than a few poached eggs, an avocado and toast.

Celia’s body is shutting down: aside from crushing fatigue, she hasn’t had her period for months.

Thankfully, she’s finally admitted she has problem, and is seeking treatment. But, worryingly, I know Celia is by far not the only ‘wellness’ blogger whose lifestyle is, quite bluntly, making her sick.



THE NEW FITNESS IDOLS

In a few short years, Celia and those like her have rocketed from ordinary enthusiasts to power players, courted by gym chains and clothing, food and supplement brands.
Just look at ‘Yoga Girl’ Rachel Brathen (1.6 million Instagram followers), firm-bottomed New Yorker Jen Selter (6.9 million followers) and six-pack-sporting Victoria’s Secret model Izabel Goulart (two million followers).

HOW MUCH EXERCISE IS TOO MUCH

Three sessions a week of 30-minutes’ moderate exercise is the minimum you should aim for. 
About 60 minutes a day of moderate or vigorous exercise is enough. Here are signs that you might be overdoing it:
  • You are doing several sessions of exercise a day, every day, though not training for an event.
  • You put exercise above everything else, including friends, work or school.
  • You get upset when you miss a workout and worry about your weight.
  • You may have unrealistic ideas about what your body ‘should’ look like.
  • Injuries and illnesses are slow to clear up.
  • Your menstrual cycle is interrupted.
And there are dozens of others. All of them beautiful. And very thin. They’re not household names, maybe, but famous on social media for revealing how they achieve their ultra-toned physiques.

Encouraging others to live a balanced, active lifestyle is a good thing. If you do too little exercise you run a greater risk of suffering from heart disease, strokes, high blood pressure, osteoporosis and poor posture, and are more likely to be overweight.

However, I feel compelled to be honest. I can’t speak for the above-named stars but in the fitness-blog community, faked and photoshopped selfies are commonplace.

And I’m worried that they hide their eating disorders in plain sight, inadvertently encouraging their followers to do the same.  And so is Celia. She says: ‘I look at other girls and think, why isn’t my life perfect like that? Why aren’t I on top form all the time? That’s why I’m talking about this – because life isn’t a stream of perfect selfies.’

So what’s the truth? One blogger I know will often exercise until she’s physically sick, but instead of resting, she’ll do another workout later the same day. She survives mostly on kale chips and coconut water.
There is the ambassador of a protein-shake company who appears muscular in photos, but in real life she is an incredibly frail, severely underweight girl who struggled breathlessly to get through the exercise class I was in with her.  And there’s another twentysomething blog star who is secretly on hormone-replacement therapy in an attempt to rediscover periods, which have stopped due to excessive exercising.


A DANGEROUS TREND

As with all social media trends, there’s a hashtag that followers look out for. It’s #fitspo (a portmanteau of fitness-inspiration). It is similar to #thinspo – thin inspiration – which was banned by Instagram for being a signal used by girls with eating disorders who refuse to accept they are unwell. 

But has fitness addiction become the new anorexia?

Dr Ian Drever, consultant psychiatrist at The Priory, believes it could be. He says: ‘We see a lot of cross-addiction where one behaviour gives way to the next. A patient might improve their eating but then start over-exercising.’

The obsessions that drive both behaviours are the same: feelings of self-loathing, and desire for control and fear of weight gain. 

The number of teenagers admitted to hospital with eating disorders across the UK has nearly doubled in three years, to more than 1,800 last year, according to the latest NHS figures. A driving factor is social media, say experts. Dr Carolyn Nahman at the Royal College of Psychiatrists said she is increasingly concerned with the pressure that teenagers feel when looking at what are supposedly ideal bodies. The problem is, if these bodies haven’t been digitally manipulated they often have achieved #fitspo status through incredibly unhealthy means.



IMPOSSIBLE PERFECTION

Celia, who still lives with her mother Tina, admits: ‘I set myself crazily high standards. I really want to have rock-solid abs and be in the athletic body-fat percentage range of between 14 and 20 per cent.’

She says she was an overweight child and has openly shared this, and her subsequent anorexia while training to be a dancer, with her followers. Her blog charts her progress from obsessing about being ‘skinny’ to wanting to be ‘strong’.

But Celia now agrees she has just substituted one form of calorie-restriction – starving – for another – feverish exercise. 

‘I wake up, go to yoga, then Barry’s Bootcamp [a famously intense hour-long treadmill-based workout class that claims to burn 1,000 calories], do another class after, then another, go home and then do gymnastics, so it can be up to six hours but it’s usually more like four,’ she says. ‘I’ve recently got into swimming on my rest days.’

She uses a fitness tracker and posts her graphs on her Instagram feed, charting miles of walking each day (‘I don’t see that as exercise,’ she says).


Graphic of data from a fitness tracker
The All Important Fitness Tracker


She adds: ‘I’ve tried but I can’t get my nutrition right. I have porridge in the morning, and then snack throughout the day. Maybe a Greek yogurt or a protein shake with oats. I’ll have four slices of toast with coconut oil before bed. But sometimes I wake up starving in the night and binge on whatever I can find. I often feel better when I eat more but I don’t have time to eat properly.

‘I probably don’t manage more than 1,600 calories on some days. But I feel like I have a tendency to over-eat so I try to cut it back.’


EXERCISE OVERLOAD

The condition Celia suffers from – not having periods – is called athletically induced amenorrhea and it occurs when, in the face of an inadequate diet, the reproductive system shuts down.

‘It happened last December,’ says Celia. ‘I did go to the doctor, and they did tests. They said it was because of all the high-intensity exercise I did producing too much testosterone. I did put on some weight to try to sort it out, going from eight-and-a-half to nine stone this year, but I’m now back to 8st 10 lb. I know I should be more worried than I am but in some ways I don’t miss them.’

Without menstrual periods, oestrogen levels, which are necessary for bones to absorb calcium, are reduced. Not only do the bones fail to absorb calcium but the body removes calcium from the bones for other functions, further weakening the skeleton. The damage can be permanent.

I have been in classes with Celia, and she has a bull-like determination to be top of the class. So it is heartbreaking to hear her say she ‘loathes’ her body. Celia, who is also a personal trainer at a gym, confesses she finds each day ‘a struggle’. She feels ‘a failure, as I don’t look the way I want to look... but my periods have stopped. I do very much beat myself over the head with it’.

SEEKING HELP

The thing that is unusual about Celia is not that she’s got a problem. It’s that she’s come clean about it.

Research has shown mothers can ‘infect’ their daughters with eating disorders, and social media does the same. Yet another blogger, Zanna Van Dijk, a London-based personal trainer with 52,100 followers on Instagram, agrees, saying: ‘There are girls who compete in competitions and train for several hours a day, and their followers assume they have to do this too.’

So what’s the solution, I ask Dr Drever. ‘We try to help patients find perspective. Find out what works for them and their body, no matter what any fitness blog says.’

But for Celia, this seems bewilderingly hard. ‘The idea of putting on weight scares me,’ she says. ‘I know I’m not healthy, but there is a 14-week waiting list to even get a consultation with a therapist. It’s so frustrating, sometimes I just cry.
‘But I feel as if people only want to see the online, happy “me”. And no one is like that all the time.’

Sunday, 2 August 2015

Loss

Babies, we spend so much of our lives trying to avoid having them, in the firm belief that one day we can just throw away our birth control and then magically, by the power of our will alone, we will get pregnant.  In this day and age when we control so much of our lives with the push of a button or tap of a keyboard, we expect something as basic as our fertility to be completely under our control.  It comes as quite a shock to most modern women when this fails to be the case. This is often the first clue that the path to parenthood isn't always an easy one.

Photo of birth control pills in pink packaging
Birth Control Pills

I realised from an early age that the reproductive organs weren't always co-operative.  I hit puberty and I hit a wall of pain.  Severe endometriosis sentenced me to days of monthly agony and wreaked havoc upon my body - both physically and emotionally.  By my late twenties I was diagnosed with fibroids and ovarian cysts were a regular feature of my thirties.  I was told my chances of ever getting pregnant were slim but that just sounded like a challenge to me.

Photo of woman holding abdomen, showing pain from endometriosis
Endometriosis

And it was one I pulled off!  "Ha! Take that you medical experts," I secretly congratulated myself as I retched and swayed through the first months of pregnancy.
However, my self-congratulation was short-lived.  My first pregnancy ended on a miserable night in January as my body cramped and bled and my heart broke.  The loss of my baby wasn't something I ever expected.  I'd defied all the odds and got pregnant and I believed my baby was meant to be.  It was like a Hollywood script - heroine defeats the odds and goes on to give birth to bouncing baby, this is her reward for all she's been through - cue happy ending.  But real life isn't like that, as I was all too painfully aware in the months following the loss of my first baby.

Fifteen months later I was pregnant again, older and wiser this time and nervous but as the weeks and months passed my nerves eased and I started to believe I was going to have this baby, that this baby was meant to be.  At twenty-three weeks I learned otherwise as I cradled the lifeless body of my little girl in my arms.  This loss completely obliterated me.  I disintegrated on many levels and life became a "going through the motions" exercise.

Black and white photo of an adult hand holding the tiny foot of a premature baby


Eventually, I pulled myself together and realised children were most probably not going to be a feature of my life.  How to face this?  How to make peace with it?  This realisation was like a huge boulder before me made of pure granite, one I couldn't get round, go through or climb over.  I knew I needed to break it down piece by piece and this was going to take time.  So my response was to wrap up my life as it was and look for a new one.  Myself and Big D literally sold up, bought a camper van and hit the road.  We didn't know where we were going or what we would do but we knew we needed to go, to try and put some distance between us and heartache and envision a future that didn't involve children.

And we were doing really well and having a wonderful time living in the camper van on the west coast of Portugal when I discovered I was pregnant again. Excitement and joy filled our hearts along with terror.

The decision to return back to Ireland was an easy one.  I knew the doctor I wanted and I knew, if things went wrong, I wanted to be in the care of the incredible people who had carried me through the worst days of my life with a kindness and compassion that I will be forever grateful for.

In December 2005 I got the most amazing Christmas present of all, my beautiful baby girl.

Two and a half years later, after a difficult pregnancy, four months of hospitalisation and much drama my son was born.  He was three months premature and it was touch and go but he made it.

Photo of smiling little girl holding her baby brother for the first time
La-la Meets The Dude For The First Time

It hadn't been my intention to write about this today but I was moved by Mark Zuckerberg's admission about the three babies himself and his wife, Priscilla, have lost on their journey to try and become parents.

Miscarriage is so common and yet is often surrounded by silence.  It's a painful subject but it's one that needs a voice.  I don't mention my experience often and even writing about it today has seen the tears flowing but I want to add my voice to the discussion.

All too often, people don't know how to react to the person who has suffered a miscarriage and some don't even consider it to be that much of a big deal.  Well let me give you an insider's view.

The loss of a baby is the loss of the future.  It is the loss of your dreams and very often the loss of hope.  And when  a person loses hope, which is very much the case after recurrent miscarriage, then they have lost everything.  I think Priscilla and Mark are exceptionally brave trying again after three losses.  I don't know if I would have been able to.

If you know someone who has lost a baby then know this:  no matter how brave a face they put on things, their heart is broken and they are hurting in  a way they have never known before.  This is a time for kindness and gentle compassion.  Don't be afraid to express your sympathy, as you would do for any other person who has suffered a loss but please do not belittle their grief.  Do NOT say things like:
"Oh well you were only a few weeks along."
"It's nature's way of dealing with babies who would have been born severely disabled."
"It was probably for the best."

And absolutely DO NOT say the dreaded:
"Oh you can go again."
or
"You're young, you have plenty of time to have another one."

You might mean well but this is the worst possible thing you can say.  They have just lost the baby that meant the world to them.  They have no reasons why and you are telling them they can just go on and have another one! This is the most ludicrous comment of all.  The person who has just lost their baby can't understand why you would think they would be able to hold onto another baby more than the one they just lost.

Sympathise.  Embrace and hug. Be kind.  Tell the person you are there for them if they need you. Listen.  Check in with them.  Do something nice for them.  Know that the date of the loss is a difficult time, as is Christmas.  Just acknowledge their pain and be sensitive to it.

I count myself incredibly lucky to have my two beautiful children.  When I took my first step towards motherhood, I had no idea of the agony that lay ahead.  We take what seems to be our right to have children so much for granted and it is only when we are faced with loss and infertility we realise becoming a parent is a gift that is not bestowed upon everyone.  If you know someone struggling with this in their life right now then please be kind and sensitive to them because it is something they never thought they would have to face.

I sincerely wish Priscilla Chan and Mark Zuckerberg all the best in the months ahead and to any of you who are reading this who are also expecting a baby after a previous loss.  I hope happier times are just around the corner.

Photo of Mark Zuckerberg and his pregnant wife Priscilla Chan
Mark Zuckerberg & Priscilla Chan
Announce Their Happy News