So Close

Spotty McGrumpypants

Although I have never had fabulous skin, it has been relatively pimple-free over the past 30 odd (give or take a year or two) years or so that I have been alive.  A few months ago I got a pimple around the time of my period.  Not just a tiny blemish but a full-on pimple (the one where you know you shouldn't squeeze it but you do and then you are immediately sorry as it leaves a big permanent mark on your face - that kind). 

First it was one pimple, then it was two. Then a month ago I got THREE pimples! Cause enough for concern, however what was particularly alarming was that it was nowhere near my period.  I immediately googled "Adult Acne" and discovered that I had late onset Adult Acne probably due to early menopause. Of the 475 symptoms listed on Google, I self-diagnosed 474 of them.  This was Serious.  I was obviously menopausal and maybe even dying.  With acne.  (This despite a visit to the gynae a week before who saw lots of eggs in my ovaries indicating that menopause was still a way away). Google knows best. 

I booked myself in for a slew of blood tests including: menopause screen, fasting glucose, platelets, thyroid screen, hormone levels and a cancer marker screen. Because you never know when acne might kill you.

The results all came back fine. I didn't have a thyroid disorder, I was not menopausal. I am not diabetic and I am not dying. Yet. I do however have pimples.

So I booked in to see a dermatologist. Who said that it does look a bit like adult acne (told you!!) which was probably hormonal due to my poly-cystic ovaries.  I told the dermatologist that this was obviously a very Serious situation which called for swift and proactive measures.  Apparently there are several courses of action we could take including reacutan, going on the birth control pill, trying an antibiotic or hiding out in my home and never going out again.  The last one was my suggestion.

We decided to try the pill for a few months to see whether that helps. Which means I am back on the dreadful, horrible Yasmin. I know everyone loves that pill but OMG it turns me into a grumpy, irritable bitch from hell.  It makes me SO ratty!!  I read back on my blog archives to 2005 when I last took Yasmin and I see it turned me into a bitch from hell back then too.  I am going to do my best to stick it out for another 2 months or so, but I am not sure whether anyone around me will survive.  My poor husband is bearing the brunt of my extreme irritation.   It is a hard choice I am making - risking my husband divorcing me vs getting rid of the acne.

I jest, but actually it is quite depressing getting acne. I am feeling really ugly and very self-conscious about it.  I am trying my best not to care too much, but it's hard.  No one likes to feel ugly.

I would appreciate any insights or advice anyone has on adult acne and / or going crazy on Yasmin. (My sister takes a pill call Oral-Con and she says it is wonderful - should I give Yasmin a chance for another two months and risk divorce or should I change to Oral-Con - I think my sister and I are pretty similar so if the Oral-Con works for her, it might work for me)

PS I now have 8 pimples on my face.  The Yasmin is really working well so far.

Yours in irritation and acne, 

Spotty McGrumpypants.

How do you teach your child to be a good loser?

I read an article recently that made me smile a wry smile because the parent the person was writing about was me!  

The article was called "Losing’s a lesson so ditch the kid gloves" by Chris Dyson. In the article he speaks about how many parents today try to shield their children from losing by giving everyone a turn to be the winner.  And that is me! I often used to say to the twins "everyone gets a chance to be the winner" but it looks like I am not doing my children any favours.  And yes, all the parties we go to today have a gift for each child in the layers of the parcel in 'pass the parcel'.  Heaven forbid the losing children would feel sad about not winning the prize.

The article came at a good time because I have been wondering how to teach Adam how to be a better loser - he is a terrible loser!  He has to win all the time and gets terribly upset if he doesn't win.  Up until recently it wasn't such a big deal because he always used to win against Kate (she is not sporty or competitive, he is physically stronger than her) and to keep the peace, I used to let him win against me but as he starts mixing with kids bigger and better than him, he is finding is harder to accept defeat graciously.  

I played basket ball against him the other day and I decided not to let him win and he was SO upset with me. He acted like a real spoilt brat! After first trying to hurt me by pushing me out the way to score a point, he then burst into tears and stomped off. I got to my computer later to find this note on my keyboard:

("I will be sad when I go to sleep. From Adam")

I had a bit of a laugh to myself - drama queen!  

I need some tips from parents and coaches and other experts - how do you teach your child to be a good loser? Do you adopt the tough approach:  make them lose again and again until they get used to it? Or do you try to explain nicely about winning and losing and how sometimes (or never?) you win and sometimes you lose? What says you guys?

Winning

Having a good run with WWF (love that game)

PS "You beat Marko Albertyn" = sweetest words ever!

 

He's a sweet boy.

Adam has turned out to be the sweetest, most kind hearted child.  Which just goes to show, a (REALLY!) difficult baby can grow up to be a really sweet, loving child

Instant Grounds for Unfriending aka Keep Your Pictures Off My FB Feed

We all have different tolerance levels for various things.  My tolerance level for things that offend me is set very high - I am not easily offended at all.  My tolerance level for suffering is set very low - I am very easily upset by the suffering of others, especially suffering of children.  I am like a sponge when it comes to other people's suffering.  If a story about a child being abused, raped or murdered comes on the radio, I switch it off immediately. I do not follow stories about missing children on the news. I change the channel if a program comes on about children being hurt or dying. It is not that I pretend that it doesn't exist - I am overly aware that there is an enormous amount of suffering that goes on in the world, and especially in my country.  Believe me when I say I am fully aware, however for my own sanity and the management of my day to day anxiety (which is usually hovering close to out of control), I can't have these words and images burnt even deeper into my brain.  I know and hear about the suffering, but I can't know the intimate details - I will replay that story over and over in my head until I can barely function.  The details haunt me.  Some people can hear a story about a missing child or see a picture about an abused child or animal and feel sympathy and move on. I don't, I don't move on. I am haunted by it for ages.

I know that children go missing - I feel tremendous pain for their parents, I worry about their safety, I take proactive (and sometimes paranoid) steps to prevent it from happening to my children.

I know that children get abused - I personally know adults who have suffered the pain of abuse when they were children. It breaks my heart to hear how their innocence was robbed. I am ever vigilant with my own children.

I am very aware that there are so many children in the world and especially in Africa who are hungry, scared and alone. It breaks my heart that children have to suffer - I donate as much as I can, I help where ever I can.

I know all of this, but I choose not to read, stare, study, hear and internalize the details. I don't need the details to take action.

And yet I am ambushed on a daily basis on Facebook and other social media sites (although FB is by far the worse) by people who think that others need to be shocked and horrified into action by posting pictures and stories about children and / or animals who are abused and suffering.  Who will post pictures of a bloody fetus after abortion, of a child beaten black and blue, of a bloody Rhino with its horn hacked off. What purpose does this serve?  Do you think that forcing the horrible images into the minds and psyches of people on Facebook is going to feed that hungry child? Is going to save the dying Rhino?  What purpose does it serve besides sicken, shock and traumatise some people who already care, perhaps too much?  And I wonder, the people who are posting the pictures of the blood, guts and gore - what else do you do besides force horror on others? Do you only post pictures or do you donate to the causes?  Do you volunteer? Do you take action?  Or are you posting the picture so that you can portray yourself as a tree-hugging, Rhino loving Mother Theresa?  Are you posting the picture in some misguided sense of solidarity with the suffering child or animal?  They don't need you to force their picture into the timeline of other people's lives - they need you to quietly and resolutely take action to help. And I need not to be further traumatised by having those painful images burnt into my already overly empathetic psyche.

Stop posting horrific pictures of suffering on Facebook - if you feel moved to assist animals, children or people - go make a donation or volunteer your time somewhere.  Or else I am going to think the only thing you want is attention. And I am going to unfriend your shock-causing intrusive ass.  

On not getting a pain in the neck

Because the internet is my life, my work, my hobby, my passion, my way of relaxing - I spend many, many hours sitting at my desk on my laptop.  Which is not great for my posture or for managing the pain in my neck and back - I always have a sore back and often have a sore neck.

I have been thinking about getting an exercise ball to sit on as I heard that helps with posture etc, but I could never manage to tear myself away from my laptop long enough to go and get one. And then lo and behold - one arrived in the mail today!!  Woo hoo!

I am going to use it at my desk for the next few days to see whether it helps.  I will let you know if it helps.

I am going to start as soon as Max gives the ball back to me because apparently the ball belongs to him and he is not going to give it back to me. In fact, he insisted on sleeping with it in his bed just in case someone took it from him:

If you would like a ball too, please pop over to my Reviews Blog and check out how you can win a ball a day until Monday. LINK 

Edited to add:  Thank goodness I have a 7-seater car because Max made me take the damn ball in the car this morning when we went to drop the twins off at school. He refuses to be separated from the ball. I am yet to have a turn with it

Runs as gracefully as a gazelle

See those marks on my boobs? That is mud. From the pavement. Had similar mud marks on my face and palms. I wiped out while running today. I tripped and fell, face (and boobs) connected with the pavement.  Was just a tad embarrassing, cars stopped to ask if I was ok. My husband probably would have wet his pants with laughter if he had seen me fall. I am still spitting out bits of the pavement (and I am not even joking, I have sand in my mouth!). Am as graceful as a gazelle when I run.

PS Running is hard work, y'all

Pussycat pussycat where have you been

In case you've been wondering where I have been, I've been to London. Not to see the Queen but to do some work stuff.  Plus do some stuff like shopping, see my handsome brother who lives in London and spend quality (shopping) time with my sister who lives in Singapore but happened to be visiting London at the same time. I did however, run past Buckingham Palace on one of my runs* and waved at the Queen while I ran past.

London was great, I love London. I had some good meetings there and managed to do a bit of shopping, although nothing for myself. I am a terrible shopper when it comes to buying clothes for myself.  I managed to buy two T shirts on the sale for myself.  And three boxes of Tampax. For the price of two. (It was a new type of Tampax that we don't have in South Africa!  Yes, my life is that sad).  As I said, I am not big on spending money on myself unless it is new gadgets - in which case, I more than make up for it. I bought lots of things for the kids, including loads of Manchester United stuff for Adam - he is a huge fan of Man U.  

I realized in London that I am very old and very old fashioned.  My brother is 12 years younger than I am, not married, no kids. He is super trendy and spends his time and money doing cool things like going skiing, eating at fancy restaurants and buying trendy clothes.  Which is a lot like my life except for the skiing, the fancy restaurants and the trendy clothes.  He was a little horrified when I eventually convinced him that I really (REALLY!) do not like going out late or eating at fancy restaurants etc.  "But what do you do for fun?" he asked worriedly. I told him that I sit at my computer and I work hard, help people and hopefully make money at the same time - that is what I love doing. "But what do you spend your money on?" he replied.  On my children, I said.  I love spending money on my kids.  Whether it is Man U kits, or school fees or a week away at a family resort - that is what I spend my money on. That is why I work.  And 99.9% of me absolutely loves that, and loves my life, but I will admit I did feel a bit old. 

Of course it didn't help that I was hanging around with a good friend who is four years older than I am but looks at least 10 years younger.  Her skin is flawless, her make up beautiful, her clothes stylish.  As I said, I felt a bit old and frumpish in London. 

It was a good trip but I missed my children and my husband terribly.  If you are feeling old and frumpish then you need be around the people who think you are fabulous and clever and perfect for them.  

It is good to be home

*Can you believe that I brought my trainers and my running clothes on a trip overseas!  First time ever I have exercised on a trip away. Tertia = Sporty Spice! (Old Spice more like it)