Self Care 2019 v. 1.0

I’ve done so many of these that at this point I feel that they should be numbered!

As mentioned, my anxiety is giving me issues. My PCP doesn’t appear receptive to the idea that I know it’s anxiety not depression. Yes, we are considering switching doctors.


But there is major snow with more on the way, the hus-creature is about to be in Seattle for a week, I have concerns about my ongoing prescriptions, and therefore it’s a total PITA to switch right now.


So, I’m trying good old-fashioned ways of dealing for now.

I’ve been going back to the nail salon every two weeks. It’s helping – my nails look pretty and I don’t feel the temptation to gnaw on them quite as much.


I still do – but only once they snag or break. Sadly, with current weather, this happens quite often.


And I got my hair did on Saturday.

This is involved, intricate, and takes roughly five hours.


Which is why it only happens once every four months!


So the “before” shot:

I hate pastels. So having had them attached to my head for the preceding month has been nothing short of torture. So I needed to see them die.

Now, this time my very talented stylist

Samantha Vallery – she works at Hair By Christine in Somerville

didn’t feel the need to bleach everything – and I bow to her expertise. She is the lady who cuts and colours hair professionally after all. If you aren’t going to listen to your damn stylist then why are you there?

Which left this very interesting “in progress” shot:

That dark line just below the pink? That is not a shadow oh no. What that bastarding thing is, is a tidemark of permanent brown dye. That has been on my head since just before I went back to work after having had TT. Let us think about this for a second. The Tiny Tyrant is now three. Three years old. (I know, I can’t believe it either!) So that tidemark is over two years old.

I would very much like it to bugger off now. As would my Sam – she was pulling worse faces than me while doing my new colour πŸ€£πŸ˜‚ she has declared it her mission to fix it. I do not mind this at all ☺️

We think that by September, what we can’t bleach out (and this colour has outlasted many attempts to shift it) can finally, finally, be cut out. Can’t cut it too soon else I lose a lot of length – and that… just won’t happen.

Else this couldn’t:

Yes, this is my hair for the next four months. I’m in love. It’s beautiful.

Once my roots start growing through again though it’ll make me sad πŸ€£πŸ˜‚ but with the ombrΓ© built in this time, it’s at least easier for me to upkeep it.

And… no blue! I’m really embracing the pink these days.

And the self care hasn’t been limited to purely physical.

In the last month (ie January) I’ve had two bad flare ups of pain – each lasting four days.


Yes yes, I know I need to see the doctor, but see above. I’m also trying to amass data on these new and annoying bouts of pain so that when I inevitably need to see a new doctor, I can at least attempt to bypass the tedious penis-waving (not literally) that will no doubt occur. I mean, what would I know about my body and medical conditions after all right?


And the hus-creature has been worried about me bless him for – as previously documented – he’s a bloody amazing man you know.

So he went foraging. To a shop in Brighton (an 80 minute round trip) and found so many things of joy, beauty and wonder.

Ok so, I loathe Angel Delight. But the rest? Everything is now in my cupboards. I can have hot Ribena – which is my true comfort drink when I’m unwell.

Self care – it’s important y’all.

Letting Go (in a good way)

Bonjour mes amies. I was planning on writing a long post about yesterday’s journey to the seaside, and I will, but I felt this was worth chronicling first.

Warning, hippy dippy potentially New Age-y shite incoming.

(Also swearing)

As many of my readers know, my kids are remarkably picky eaters. To the extent that I often wonder why they aren’t more skinny. In fact, whilst I think they are fine they certainly aren’t underweight.

You know that I’ve tried everything to get them to eat. To eat more, eat healthy(er), to eat variety.

It has, quite frankly, killed me. Both mentally and physically. There has been such an attempt made to:

But it has more often resulted in:

We all know about healthy eating. We know about food groups, vitamins, minerals, “5 a Day” but what do you do when, despite your best efforts, they just won’t?!?!?

Well, if you are me dear audience, you fret, and stress, cry, feel like a failure, and let it beat you down until it becomes (yet another) reason to push you back in your depression spiral/box.

But, the hus-creature loves me, and his kids, and hates to see us like this.

And he read a study on it. A study that showed that forcing picky eaters to eat outside of their comfort zone actually causes way more harm than good.

There was more to it of course, but it’s what it boiled down to.

That it is better that they are given what they will eat, rather than not.

So, that’s what I have been doing.

Peanut butter and jam sandwiches are now a daily meal staple. I sometimes vary it like the above, sometimes not.

And this is the result of careful theorising. I’m always left with a small amount of boxed macaroni and cheese after I make it for them.


Probably because I add the peas!!!


But it’s never enough for an additional two meals on its own.

Voila! Side dish. And yes, one child has broccoli (TT) and one child has cucumber (#1 Son) because of preferences. But I am working on that too. Do you see the tiny amount of each on the other’s plate? It works.

And no, they won’t accept home made macaroni and cheese sauce. I tried.

So yes, their diets are limited, bland and (to me) frankly appalling. But they are happy. They are eating. Meal times aren’t a battle anymore. No more tears.

They have a set “routine” of meals now:

  • Boxed mac ‘n cheese with added peas. At least it’s the organic kind.
  • PB&J
  • Hot dogs
  • Chicken nuggets (hidden veg brand whoo) with shaped potato of some kind.
  • Tinned spaghetti with meatballs – but that is significantly less successful than the boxed type.
  • Cheese quesadilla (again hidden veg) and that is #1 Son more than TT.

There might be more, but I forget.
Thankfully they do also eat:

  • Bananas
  • Apples
  • Ham
  • Cheese
  • Grapes
  • Cucumber (more #1 Son)
  • Broccoli (TT)
  • Carrots (TT)

I’ve excluded the “junk food” they will have when we go out but even that is predetermined and a small list.

  • Cheese pizza (more #1 Son than TT)
  • Cheeseburgers
  • Chicken tenders

Rarely they will accede to a pasta dish.

But gummy multivitamins are aces, and now I’ve embraced my reality? I’m much calmer.

TT also likes to stand on the scales after we do once a week, so that allows me to keep track of her weight, and she’s fine. She even gained a little last week.

So to any haters out there I say, walk a mile in my shoes before you judge. And until then:

Self Care

I think we can all agree that it’s important.

We’ve had a bit of an… intense week here.

It started on Monday when we received a debt collection letter for less than Β£70 from a company. Addressed to the hus-creature.


Fret not dear audience, we paid it. It wasn’t worth hassling to that level over


For energy in our old property.

For the record this was down to the incompetence of Co-Operative Energy. Do not use them. Ever. They are worse than useless.

See, when we informed them that we were moving and paid off the balance they somehow decided that we were tenants. And so did not keep my details on file for the time between moving (July 15) and the house sale completion (October 13).

However instead of contacting us by name as, you know, the debt was in our names, and so having those letters forwarded, they decided in their infinite wisdom to address them to The Occupier. Which Royal Mail do not forward.

So the first we hear about it is the debt collection letter. Now, interestingly, the debt should have been in my name, as I paid all household bills out of my salary. But it was addressed to the hus-creature only. So we aren’t sure whose credit it might potentially have trashed.

But we paid it before making enquiries. Because, according to the hus-creature:

Co-operative will have sold this debt on to this collection company for pennies on the pound so I would rather they not get a penny of our money.

A sentiment I couldn’t really argue with and either way we did owe the money.

We’ve not taken it lying down though – a politely furious twitter campaign highlighting their incompetence has been ongoing and we have complained about the fact that my online account still showed a Β£0 balance owed when this letter arrived

In a move that shocks no-one the company “cannot explain this”

They’ve doubled down on the “oh but your wife told us that you were tenants” which is a total lie, but they have assured us that it won’t affect our credit ratings as it never reached legal proceedings stage.

I do not believe them. At all. And so we will be paying to check our credit and paying for more Royal Mail redirection.

I’m furious, but we didn’t exactly have options – we don’t live in the U.K. right now so we can’t deal with it in person. We might move back, so we cannot afford to have our (previously perfect) credit histories trashed. So if they have messed with it, I will rain down hellfire and brimstone.

So that was a fun Monday.

Then on Tuesday we received communication from the landlady that she suddenly had concerns about a swing set that she had previously agreed to and we had ordered

And to be brutally honest we only checked out of courtesy – there’s nothing in the lease that said we couldn’t, and there was already play equipment (but no swing set) out there and she had okayed it.

But there was suddenly concerns that:

  • The children might hurt themselves – well I wasn’t going to leave #1 Son out there by himself was I? Let alone TT
  • Children might walk in off the street and use it – Well first off if they did they are badly brought up, and secondly how’s about you install the blasted fence you promised when we moved in
  • We might sue them (the landlord) if the kids hurt themselves – see the first point.

We measured up before we bought it. We got permission. And it’s a 2018 swingset.

There are a minimum of four kids going to be out in the backyard in any one day once the weather warms up/the summer holidays start. We needed something that could accommodate that.

So that was an aggravation.

Oh and she suddenly wanted proof of Renters Insurance. We have it. We sent it. But it was another irritation.


Please don’t misunderstand me. I know we need it. Of course she wants to see it. But, in my opinion, that should have been made clear when we moved in. Not six months down the line.


Oh and the air conditioner needed it’s filter replacing. So I got a lecture on where to buy a ($3) filter and how often to change it, and not to use the wrong size (I am 35 not 13) and you know what? As we technically share the apartment with said landlady, it is not solely our responsibility. But whatever. It’s three bucks every 3-6 months. I’ll deal with it.

So that added to my levels of pissed off-ness.

Then TT decided that going back on hunger strike would be fun, because why not. And #1 Son is, as ever, a totally fussy swine.

However this week I officially met his harem. I’m not kidding. My not-quite-six-year-old Son has a group of 5th Grade girls (at least 5 of them) completely devoted to him. They are eleven. I am by turns both amused and terrified about what this implies for the next decade or so!

That cheered me up. Then we tried to get TT to actually say her brother’s name:

She has… views on this though πŸ˜‚πŸ€£

She does prefer her OWN version

But yeah it’s been a trying week. So when the lovely H said she was getting her nails done, and did I want to come along? I leapt at it, as I haven’t had them done since before my operation and I was feeling sad about the state of them.

Why yes, yes they are colour changing. I’m fascinated by them πŸ˜‚πŸ€£

We have a standing fortnightly appointment now πŸ‘πŸ»

Self care – it’s important y’all.

A slight backslide today

Maybe I overdid it. Maybe this is normal. But I feel rotten. My stomach is sore and crampy, and my incision hurts a bit.

I have sent the hus-creature to make me a hot water bottle whilst I hide in bed. He is happy to do this. He has also made me a cup of tea and brushed my hair πŸ’—πŸ’•

He is a lovely man person 😘

Poor old TT has had a bit of a rotten day too. She is severely constipated right now 😰 So the Mothership and I are putting our heads together to find ways of sneaking more fibre into her. I am deeply sympathetic to the poor wee thing.

#1 Son came home with a Valentine he made for me:

I’m not crying – you’re crying.

He’s so proud of it too πŸ’•

Day Two?

Or is it three? My counting might be off. This is certainly Day 3 in hospital. And I might just be going home today.

I’m a little apprehensive about that – but only because I’ve been liking having a motorised bed.

So, yesterday was spent in a fug of dozing, sipping liquids, attempting food, and having meds.

I’ve (at the nurse’s suggestion) cut back my Oxycodone to one 5mg tablet every four hours, which coupled with Tylenol every six is keeping me tolerably comfortable. And it means my prescription of Oxy will last a bit longer, giving me more time to heal.

As previously stated, this is not pain free. But it’s working. And I get to keep my support band thing thank the gods.

By my reckoning I am coming up to the 36 hours past where the belly tap should have worn off so this is a good sign.

The nurses here are amazing. No, really they are. I’m on the Mother and Baby ward and so I’m a little bit of an oddity and I’m being looked after so well.

Yesterday there was a really sweet High School student doing work shadowing, and she was so happy and bubbly. She was telling me all about how much she loves kids and the M&B ward. And we bonded over how we both swallow tablets


Sip of water, tablet in mouth, snap head back to swallow


Which apparently everyone in her family consider weird – so I’ve told her to say it’s the British way πŸ˜‚πŸ€£

So I think I was a bit of interest in her day. Overall I haven’t heard many babies, I think twice we’ve had “I am a new person and I am angry” levels of noise, and some of what sounded like hyped up older children visiting, but I’m in my own side room so I don’t disturb them and vice versa.

Food still isn’t interesting me much. I had a good breakfast yesterday:

I ate it all. I plan on re-ordering it today and hoping there’s tinned peaches today rather than the banana.

Lunch I think I was too optimistic – I ate my corn, half my chicken breast and my chocolate ice cream. Ignored my baked potato.

So for dinner I just went with chicken noodle soup and the ice cream. I’m keeping well hydrated with ice water and apple juice and nibbling on graham crackers so I’m not worried.

And it’s not like I couldn’t afford to lose a few pounds πŸ˜‚πŸ€£

TMI ALERT


I still haven’t pooped though. But considering how little I’m eating overall I’m not too worried yet.


I went for a short walk yesterday which is great progress. Getting up and down still hurts like anything, but moving around is beginning to become easier.

Okay, time to order food, as I actually feel hungry πŸ™€

Christmas Eve (Eve)

Busy busy busy here.

The hus-creature braved the wilds of Wegmans to forage for our weekly shop.

Thanks to a very kind invitation, we are heading up to Connecticut tomorrow afternoon to spend a day or two with family and as such don’t have to plan a full dinner for the big day.

However it does mean that wrapping needs to be finished. Which has been complex.

I would really like to know something.

WHY IS IT SO DIFFICULT TO GET BIRTHDAY WRAPPING PAPER AT THIS TIME OF YEAR?!?!?!?

Apparently the gift wrapping fairies appear to believe that no one (apart from Jesus) is born in December!

Also, well, at least two different sets of Christmas wrapping paper are called for.

It’s a bit of a logistical nightmare.

So I have this to console me:

I don’t mind if I do 😝

In addition, some personalised merchandise came home from school yesterday:

<<<< that is artwork created by #1 Son πŸ’•πŸ’•

And to cap it all off, TT is apparently feeling under the weather today.

Death. Stare.

Of Therapists and friendly gestures

Today we had our initial booking assessment for counselling for #1 Son.

It’s to assist with his IEP – the psychologist referred us and I would be stupid to refuse the help. In my view anything that helps him handle the world and his place in it is a bonus.

Information will be shared between the counsellor, the school and his Primary Care Physician. Again, this just seems smart and sensible – it limits the risks of triangulation and keeps everyone on the same page.

The counsellor seems lovely, and I hope will be dubbed another Feelings Lady. We start fortnightly sessions on Tuesday from 02 January.

This is a very positive step.

Yesterday I had my nails done again

I’ve switched to a more local salon which is half the cost of the one based in Cambridge.

I’m learning the value of shopping around though, as the wonderful H (from downstairs) and her daughter were still shocked at the $30 price tag attached to these festive lovelies.

So, she has suggested that I go with her in the New Year and we get them done together. And I’m really happy to do that.

Last week I popped down with a pretty hamper of goodies to say thank you and merry Christmas, as I firmly believe in kind gestures (and we all know I really want to make friends here)!

She was shocked speechless but in a good way

Last night she came up with a beautiful plate of hand baked cookies on a “Giving Plate” which we are to in some way inscribe our names on and pass on.

I’ve already scoffed about half the cookies (yes I let the kids help), asked for the recipes and offered knitting lessons in return.

I’m so grateful for the offer of friendship. She seems so nice, we seem to get on well and heck she lives downstairs.

Long may this continue.

Medical update

So, yesterday I toddled up to see my Primary Care Physician. Basically my new GP.

He is a lovely man.

He wanted to follow up on my blood pressure.

Which, after a week of medication clocked in at an acceptable 120/82

So yes, the losing weight thing will have to happen, but my headaches are now a thing of the past and I feel so much better overall.

And this was what greeted me on the way:

So that wasn’t as pretty as I’d hoped but then this:

Real icicles. Everywhere. They are just beautiful.

I’m really loving winter here so far.

I have no doubt that by the time spring comes around again I’ll be desperate for it, but I’m enjoying this at the moment.

And, in the most exciting news

My hysterectomy has been provisionally booked!!!!!

Yes ladies and gents, Monday 5th Feb is D-Day and I. Cannot. Wait.

Tomorrow I should have it confirmed. Please let it not be cancelled.

The (apparent) aftermath

I am unwell today.

I’ve had killer headaches off and on for over a month – a lot of that can most likely be attributed to my untreated hypertension (started my new medication yesterday – I am now on three pills a day πŸ‘πŸ»πŸ˜‚)

But at 3am this morning I was dragged awake with a screaming head – to the extent I actually woke the poor hus-creature by sobbing.

And I remained awake for at least an hour.

This beautiful creature kept me company though:

I’ve often said we have a dog-cat πŸ˜‚πŸ€£

Sadly kitty-snuggles were not sufficient and at 4am I was calling God on the porcelain telephone.


Note: American toilets are not comfy for doing this if you are used to British plumbing.


Oddly I felt better enough to then snuggle down with my furry companion and my cuddly hot water bottle (that would be the hus-creature) and basically pass out until the alarms went off.

I’ve pretty much been a zombie for the rest of the day though. Just mainlining stodge, carbs, sugar and caffeine to get through.

No it’s not healthy but lord has it helped.

My head is still pounding, and #1 Son has a half day today, but he’s being lovely and TT is also being reasonable.

A little Christmas present from me to me arrived today:

Which has helped.

I am so tired of feeling sick and tired. Endometriosis is a bastard, and all the other conditions can get in the sea as well.

The Thanksgiving Break

It’s taken me a little while to write this as I am missing everyone like crazy so it’s been tough to get things written down.

It was wonderful.

We stayed for three days in the company of family (on the hus-creature’s side) in their stunning guest apartment.

I got to know a number of my lovely in-laws a lot better, which was really something special.

We had the turkey. And the hus-creature and I most generously offered to save everyone from the dreaded dark meat.

Honestly we truly prefer it.

Let me see if I can list the culinary delights:

  • Turkey – of course
  • Mac and cheese (delicious)
  • JalapeΓ±o cheddar corn bread (I need the recipe for this wonder)
  • Sweet potato bourbon maple mash (oh so good)
  • Green beans
  • Gravy
  • Cranberry sauce

Then there was pie. Oh so much pie.

  • Chocolate peanut butter
  • Apple
  • Pumpkin
  • There were two more but I forgot.

Apart from the apple briefly going missing, it was all delicious.

The kids were remarkably well behaved.

TT ate actual food:

#1 Son… did not. But I didn’t really expect that he would.

They had loads of fun outside in the gorgeous grounds of the main house.

TT made daddy take her for a ride in the cart:

There was much happy shouting of “wheee” and “MORE” πŸ’•πŸ’—πŸ’•πŸ’—

#1 Son just ran about a LOT.

There was a brief moment of panic. Do you see the large body of water? There was a moment when Daddy could not find him. He had wandered in to tell me about his “club house” and wandered off again. He meant the guest apartment, which is where he had gone.

Without telling us that he was going there!!!

So no, he had not drowned himself, but we all panicked. He was most confused as to why.

On Friday, almost everyone else took the train to visit New York and do the tour of Lady Liberty.

We opted not to attempt to drag the offspring up 200+ steps. Granddad also decided not to go. So there was brief discussion on how to entertain said childer-beasts, and we decided to go to the nearby aquarium, and leave granddad to rest.

However he decided that he would like to join, which was lovely. However there wasn’t room for five people in our car, lovely though it is.

Therefore, rather than take a Lyft on a very busy day, I selflessly (honestly, see the halo πŸ˜‡πŸ˜‡πŸ˜‡) opted to stay behind in the guesthouse with my knitting, tea and leftover turkey.

Totally generous of me wasn’t it? πŸ˜‚πŸ€£

They had a lot of fun:

Right until they found a soft play area. Whereupon #1 Son had a full on meltdown, including trying to escape from granddad, because other children wanted to play with the things he was building an invention out of.

How very dare they πŸ™„πŸ˜πŸ™„πŸ˜

And so the trip was cut short and they all came home.

All in all it was a lovely visit with family with many moments of happy.

The drive home was much less eventful than the trek up, we managed it on a full ‘tank’.

However upon our return we discovered that when, in his haste, the hus-creature had dropped the car charger to the ground before we embarked, it had gone kaput.

Which, in my humble opinion, makes it entirely unfit for purpose. Sadly it is still busted over a week later but the company are working on it. Stand by for that update.

So yes, that was our Thanksgiving Break. Many thanks are extended to Domi et al for putting us up and for inviting us up for Christmas.

We are very much looking forward to it πŸ‘πŸ»πŸ˜˜