So Close

If it's Wednesday, it's date night

It is Wednesday. Which means it is date night tonight.  Which therefore means there will be no new blog post tonight or tomorrow morning because I will be busy with....um, other stuff. 

In the mean time, I'll leave you with this picture to tide you over.

Online infertility support in South Africa

I would like to tell you a little about one of my latest projects. Something that started up and then had to put on hold while I sorted my life out. It is still on hold in terms of my time and effort, but the essence of it continues without me.

A big, big part of what got me through the darkest times during my infertility battle was the support I got from my fellow infertiles in the computer. I spent literally hours, and I mean HOURS online chatting and bonding and sharing with people from across the globe. These women I met on the infertility bulletin boards and online support groups became some of my dearests friends. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without them. I am still really close to many of them today, all these years later. Hey girls, remember TLOL! How long ago was that! Ages.

I wrote about this in my book and people often email me and ask where they can find good local online support forums and I feel terrible that I am unable to point them to anything that comes even close to what I had. 

There are three main online support forums that exist in South Africa:

• The one is very regionalized and specific to a particular type of ‘treatment’
• The other is exceptionally quiet. No one ever posts.
• The busiest one is a forum that is plagued with daily melodrama / trolls / infighting / bitchiness etc. I would hate to send someone new that way.

There might be a few others but I don’t know about them.

As you know, helping others deal with infertility is my cause, my passion and my self-imposed obligation and so I wanted to do something about it. So I set up the framework of a site where I could talk about infertility issues and facilitate a forum where people could get the same kind of support and love I got all those years back. And then the whole “Talk” thing happened and it was one of the casualties of my ‘quality time with husband’ thing. Rats!

I am still very keen on the idea and I will pick it up as soon as I have some capacity, but I am hoping that the forums will tick over in the meantime without too much of my intervention.

If you are South African and are looking for online support, please go have a look at www.storksisters.com and participate in the conversations that have started there. No trolls / bitchiness / melodrama tolerated!

Good luck and much love to all of you.

xxx

Silly billies

The Dangerous Book for Boys

(A book review. Click away if you aren’t keen to read more.)

You know how some things make you smile. This book made me smile. It is the sweetest, warmest, most absolutely Serious and Important thing I’ve seen for a while.

The Dangerous Book for Boys is a very Serious book indeed. It is written by boys, for boys. It deals with all the Very Important and Serious stuff that boys might need to know one day. And does so in the most delicious way.

Marko’s reaction when he saw the book is a testament to the Seriousness and Importance of the book. It had just arrived and was lying on the kitchen counter. Marko picked it up and said “what the hell is this?” (I hate it when he does that. He is always doing that. Picking things up and saying “what the hell is this?” What does it look like sweetheart??? It is called a B O O K.)

Anyway, as I was saying. Marko flipped through the pages and quite a few minutes later said “this looks like quite a good book, who is it for”. I explained that it was a book for review and suggested that perhaps he read it and review it for my blog. A joke of course as Marko has only ever read one book in his entire life. And it wasn’t my book. Nice.  But even Marko recognized the importance of this book straight away.

The Dangerous Book for Boys is a book filled with all sorts of really important information.  Stuff that boys need to know about. Things like how to tie a knot and how to build a tree house. It answers important questions about the world like ‘Why is a summer’s day longer than a winter’s day?’ It also has chapters on first aid, naval flags and grammar. It talks about Pirates and Shakespeare and secret ink. Lots and lots of really important boy stuff.

I started marking the pages that I wanted to tell you about but the book got too full of pieces of toilet paper (only time to read is on the loo). There is just too much sweet, oops, I mean Serious stuff in there to tell you about it all.

But this little chapter I had to share. It is a small chapter wedged in between Pronouns and Marbling Paper. It is on Girls.

GIRLS

You may already have noticed that girls are quite different from you. By this, we do not mean the physical differences, more the fact that they remain unimpressed by your mastery of a game involving wizards or your understanding of Morse code. Some will be impressed, of course, but as a general rule girls do not get quite as excited by the use of urine as secret ink as boys do.

And then it goes on to give a few pieces of advice on how to deal with girls. Wait! I have to share another paragraph with you:

1. It is important to listen. Human beings are often very self-centered and like to talk about themselves. In addition, it’s an easy subject if someone is nervous. It is good advice to listen closely – unless she has also been given this advice, in wich case an uneasy silence could develop, like two owls sitting together.

This is the type of book that a 10 year old would love to read with his dad. It was so sweet, so boy. I almost felt as if I was cheating reading it. This is boy stuff. Not for moms and girls. I am exaggerating of course, and moms and girls would love it too, but I just loved how seriously and respectfully the authors have approached the special world of being a boy. And with such delicious humour as well. 

If you have a son or a nephew or just any young boy, give them this book as a gift. Give to their dad’s or granddads to give to them. This is type of book that Dads and sons should read together.

I really loved this book, I am keeping my copy for Adam.

Read more about the book here.

Read an excerpt here.

Buy the book here.

Some super hot reviews from fellow bloggers here.

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Oh. Wait. I’ve just read another review of the book where the blogger was up in arms about the book because “We're teaching little girls right off the bat that they're servants and baby factories and we're teaching boys that they get to have fun. Anybody see a teensy problem with that?”

Oh. My. Fuck. Get a grip for fucks sake. Does every single thing have to be so frighteningly PC and beige and inclusive and neutral and vanilla and oh so correct all the time? 

This is a book humorously (and quite tongue in cheek!) celebrating the boy'ish side of being a boy. It is NOT exclusionary, it is not disparaging towards girls and IT IS NOT A STATEMENT ABOUT WOMEN AND GIRLS ROLE IN SOCIETY!!!  Good lord, it is a fun BOOK, not a bloody manifesto. Every time I read a line going on about 'what does this say about our society blah blah fishpaste' I want to vomit.  Guess what, sometimes it says fuck all about society and is just as it is. 

You know, sometimes people exhaust me. Honestly, they exhaust me. Does absolutely every thing have to have a sinister agenda? Must everything always be such a big deal? Can we not just have fun? Can we not occasionally do things ‘just because’? Why do we always have to look for the deeper, darker, evil meaning in everything. 

Sigh. I hate that awful PC beige oneness. Get a life, have some fun. Live dangerously for a while. Have an opinion, take risks, celebrate differences, stand up for what you believe in and respect each other’s choices. Mostly, just please stop being so bloody beige all the time.

ARRGGHHH!!!!!!!

(sorry, had a little rant there. Guess who is feeling just a little irritable.)

The bean jar married sex theory

Long before I got married, a (male) friend of mine shared his theory on marriage (or any long term committed relationship) with me. It was this:

 
When you meet someone new, someone you think you might end up getting serious about, go out and get yourself a jar and a big packet of beans. Then, every time you shag, put one of the beans in the jar. Carry on doing that until you get married.

 

After your wedding night and once you are back from your honeymoon, take that full jar of beans out again. From then on, remove a single bean for each time you have sex with your partner. You’ll never empty that jar again.

 My friend was mostly full of shit, but his theory on sex and marriage isn’t far from the truth. Nothing seems to dampen that old libido like Long Term Commitment. And I want to know why.

Why is it that when we meet someone new, we can’t get enough of them and we are putting beans in that jar at a rate of knots. We shag any where, every where and all the time. But as soon as we’ve been together for a while, the lid hardly ever comes off that old bean jar. Where as before all we needed was a wink and a nudge and a spot that wouldn’t get you arrested, now you can only do it if you aren’t feeling too fat / sick / bloated / angry / irritated / sad / premenstrual / head achey / out of sync with the planetary alignment. If it isn’t Saturday morning and everything is exactly as it should be, it ain’t gonna happen.

Why does it seem like sex in a long term relationship is a lot like going to gym? Getting yourself there seems like SUCH a mission. It seems like such an effort getting into the gym spirit, there are a million other things you think you should be doing (sleeping! Tidying up! Killing your husband!). But once you are there you have the most fabulous time and afterwards you say to yourself ‘Damn that was fun! Must do it more often’. You get that wonderful endorphin rush and you feel all gorgeous and sexy and then …. well, then life happens and you forget how divine it makes you feel and the next time your gym partner gives you the wink and nudge you want to knock his bloody head off his shoulders BECAUSE CAN’T HE SEE THAT YOU ARE TOO TIRED / TOO HOT / REALLY UPSET??? 

Why do we do that? Sex is great! We love sex! We love our partners and we even love having sex with them!  Then why aren’t we doing it as much as we used to when we first met? 

I was chatting to my girlfriends about this and all the usual arguments came up:

We are tired (they are too, they still want to shag!)

We don’t feel as great about ourselves as we used to (they don’t care! They STILL want to shag, even if we are a little broader / softer / greyer! They still want us, thank goodness.)

It’s the kids (they have kids too, but they still want to shag)

We get irritated with them for not doing enough housework / not being attentive enough / breathing (they get irritated with us too, but they still want to shag!)

They are not as romantic as they used to be (they will do romance if it will means more shagging! Will it mean more shagging??)

There isn’t enough time (They will make time! Have you got five minutes?)

We are angry with them (Well then! Let’s shag to make up!)

They are wired to want sex more than we do (But when we first met you wanted to shag just as often as I did? What the hell happened to that wiring?)

That was then. You’ve changed (So have you! Still wanna shag you though)

It isn’t Saturday morning, what on earth is that thing poking in my back??!! (“According to the Durex survey most people are having sex 3.5 times a week”. “People lie on that survey, now go back to sleep”)

I don’t know what it is. I really don’t. I love my husband dearly. I still think he is very attractive. Sex with him today is even better than it was all those years ago and even way back then it was pretty damn fantastic. He doesn’t even irritate me that much. Not often anyway. And yet, in spite of all of that, I still think once a week is a perfectly acceptable number.  (And anyway, I am sure those people on the Durex survey lie. Who the hell is having that much sex??)

Why are you having less sex than you used to? Is it really just the fact that you have less time and opportunity? It is really just about the kids / stress / lifestyle? Don’t those things apply to our partners as well? Or is it more than that? Aren’t just about all the reasons we so readily give equally applicable to our partners, and yet they seem to be want to do it as much as they used to. What the hell happened to our libidos? What happened to any where, every where and all the time?  Why was it so much easier to fill that bean jar than it is to empty it?

I am really interested to hear your real reasons for why you are having less sex than you used to. You are welcome to post anonymously if you want.

Of course you might be one of those annoying bastards who skew the stats lucky few who are still doing it as often as you did when you first met.  How on earth do you manage that? Tell me your secret.

One last thing: Isn’t it funny. As much as I ‘complain’ about Marko wanting do it more often than I do, I would FAR rather have it this way around than me wanting to do it more than he did. Isn’t that hypocritical. I want him to want me, just not too often.

You tired of the boobs or do you want to talk about this some more?

I don’t really mind, if you promise that we won’t fight about it?

In hindsight, it was probably a mistake to respond to only one of your arguments and not the others. It was just the easiest and quickest one for me to answer. The ‘accept what God gave you’ point. Accept what God gave me? Nope, sorry. Don’t buy that one, never have. The nail polish thing was a deliberate GROSS oversimplification of the point “where and how and who draws the line as to what is accepting and not accepting”. As I said, I said it badly. That is what rushing blog posts will do. 

But there were many other very valid points you raised, points that I have answers or opinions on: 

• It’s dangerous / I could die etc 
• They will look silly / fake etc 
• People won’t respect me because I have fake boobs
• I am doing it because I am depressed (which would clearly be the wrong reason to do it)
• I am bowing into society’s negative attitude towards women’s body / aging etc
• What message will I be sending my daughter and / or son?

There were others, forgive me. I’ll look them up if you want to talk about it some more.

Wish we could do this over a glass of wine. So much easier to have an interactive conversation than me writing my bit and then you responding and me coming back to you etc etc. Not quite the same.  I am not that keen to drag it out much longer, and I must say I wonder whether we will ever come to a place of total agreement, but if you want to talk about it some more, then we can.  Let me know. 

In the meantime, let’s hope this FET works. If it doesn’t work, I promise to do some serious thinking about whether this is the right decision to make. How does that sound? Ok?

To end, I promise not to judge you if you don’t want fake boobs. I will still be your friend, whether you love silicone or not. Just because you aren’t as shallow and self-absorbed as I am, doesn’t mean we can’t still get on?

I’m just teasing of course. I’m kind of sorry I brought the boob thing up because I feel like I have really disappointed you, and I hate that. I should have thought about it properly before I spoke about it.  I’m an asshole, what can I say.

If you a happy clapping natural boob lover, say a prayer that the FET works. Then I will be too busy being paranoid about pregnancies and live babies to even THINK about new knockers. At least until the next time.

My boobs and I are going to bed. Good night all. Over n out.

I dedicate this Mother’s Day to you…

On this Mother’s Day, I would like to ask a favour of you. I would like you all to spare a thought for those whom the day brings tears instead of joy. For those who instead of celebrating, are filled with sorrow.

First, and closest to my heart, spare a thought for those who desperately yearn to be mothers, but for various reasons aren’t. Please think of them and their longing on a day like this. If your church or community has events to celebrate Mother’s Day, please don’t forget about them. Mother’s Day is an especially tough day for these women. I know.  

Think of the mothers who are mourning children no longer with us. Lost pregnancies, deceased babies, children no longer with us. Aching hearts, empty arms.

Then, something that makes my heart ache. Please think of all the elderly mothers sitting in old age homes and retirement villages alone and lonely. Mothers, who for various reasons, are not with their children today. My heart aches at the thought of their heartache. If you can, please go visit your local old age home on Mother’s Day and make a mother’s day special. 

And what about those who have lost their mothers. Who would dearly love to be with their mothers on this Mother’s Day, but can’t. Because their mothers are no longer with us, or because they mothers live too far away, or because their mothers have physically or emotionally deserted them. Mother darling, I am thinking of you and your mother. I’m sorry you never had what I have with you. Thank for not repeating the cycle. 

I don’t want to be a downer on what is a day of celebration for many people, but I can’t help remember the sadness I felt on this day for so many years; and I can’t help but think of others who might be feeling sad too.

On this day of celebration and salutation of motherhood and mothers, spare a thought for those whose day will be less than joyful. Hug your children extra tight and tell your mother how much you appreciate her. Be immensely grateful you can.

“Maybe God doesn’t want you to be a mother”

Out of the many hurtful things said to me during my infertility years, the cruellest and most cutting were the words said to me by a middle aged man I worked with at the time: “Perhaps you should just accept that maybe God doesn’t want you to be a mother”.

For me, having a boob op has nothing to do with accepting or not accepting ‘the body God gave me’.  

You know, if I “just accepted / was happy with” the body God gave me, I wouldn’t paint my toenails or wax my legs.

If I just accepted / was happy with the body God gave me, I wouldn’t wear mascara or colour my hair.

If I just accepted / was happy with the body God gave me, I wouldn’t wear glasses nor had braces on the teeth.

But mostly, if I just accepted / was happy with the body God gave me, Kate and Adam wouldn’t be here today.

(PS I've addressed having had previous breast reduction surgery in the comments section on post below)

(PPS I am going to continue the conversation in the comments section on this post, I am not going to keep doing new posts every time I want to give an answer or add something, k?)

The Boobs: Either you are thinking too much or I am thinking too little

I’m surprised at how much you are reading into the boob thing and how ‘anti’ some of you seem to be. How come? What’s your objection to boob jobs etc? Let’s pretend this is a general question and has nothing to do with in particular. Or even me in particular. Whatever. Why are you so anti boob jobs?

Is it because you think they look fake? Or because you think it is dangerous? Or because you think one should accept the body one has? What? I am not being facetious, promise. Perhaps I am not thinking deeply enough about this because to me it is just a boob job, not some big statement on myself / society / etc. My thinking is: I can and I want to and so why not? But as I said, perhaps I am missing something?

What’s your objection, specifically in relation to me doing it or in general for anyone doing it? 

(Play nicely!)

PS I will most certainly NOT be getting big fake looking Pammy Anderson boobs. It will look ridiculous on my olive-on-a-toothpick frame. I just want my boobs to be less ‘empty’.

PPS  Someone mentioned before and after photos. Do not tempt me. You know how I love to share.

PPPS I didn’t know the boobs had an expiry date, that DOES worry me. What happens when they expire? Do they suddenly collapse or harden or what?  

PPPPS  In keeping with the theme, I will be discussing the very important issue of sex with you next week. Pay attention please.

Tell me about your lovely perky new boobs

(I wanted to write ‘show me yer tits’ as the subject line, but that sounded way too rude. Although if you want to show me your tits, that’s fine too.)

Tell me about your designer boobs – which implants? How much? Under or over the muscle? Any tips / advice etc you want to share with me?

Plastic surgery, like IVF, is really cheap and really good here in South Africa. You can get a boob job at a top class plastic surgeon for $3,000. In fact, that is how much an IVF with ICSI costs here too. 

We have lots of plastic surgery safaris – come to SA, have a boob job and see some lions while you recover. I see the lions in my backyard every day, so I am going to skip that part and just do the boobs.

PS Am in really really REALLY skippy mood, might have good news re book. I hope so, fingers crossed!!!