27 February, 2015

Pleasure (and pain) in the little things

Sometimes, when we least expect it, we realise that maybe we’re missing out on something small that gives us pleasure. I was struck by this recently in a stationery store. It was the start of the school year, and there were notepads and exercise books galore - heavily discounted, and tempting me with their empty pages. I bought one exercise book. Yes, a paltry, measly ONE. I delighted in the cost … 49 cents! I felt a tiny twinge that as I didn’t have any children, I had no excuse to buy dozens. Then I moved on.

You can read more about my stationery fetish here on ASeparate Life.

23 February, 2015

#MicroblogMondays: Knickers!

My guests will arrive in an hour, and I still have to do some cooking and cleaning, but it is Monday, and my mind has gone blank for #MicroblogMondays ... so when in doubt, repost!

Those of us who go through loss, infertility, or end up living without children often end up feeling less like a woman, and decidedly unattractive. When I was going through my second ectopic, an internet friend suggested I go out and buy myself some sexy underwear. At the time, sexy was the last thing I felt like - it was feeling sexy that had caused all this trouble, after all!

But one day I did as she suggested, and although I might not have felt particularly sexy, I did feel

  • younger, more pert
  • more feminine (which was particularly important at the time)
  • more beautiful, and
  • a wee bit naughty.

Whatever size you are, whatever you might be doing, don’t underestimate the rejuvenating power of some new underwear, or a sexy new bra. They lift your spirits as well as those cheeks and boobs!

PS. Based on the comments I received first time around, feel free to replace underwear with shoes - they have similar beneficial results.

16 February, 2015

#MicroblogMondays: A healing quote

This quote to me explains what acceptance and recovery is all about, no matter what we have had to face.

I think it sits happily here in No Kidding land. Don't you?

13 February, 2015

Bloggy Valentines

I don't do Valentines Day. But Mel had a lovely idea - to choose 5 blogs at random, and post with a sentence about what you love about each one, and to list it on her post. I'm all for celebrating the bloggers who make me happy, make me laugh, and make me think. So I decided to dive in too, assuming it wasn't limited to the first five she tagged (I might be wrong, I don't know!), choosing five IF blogs randomly from my Feedly list. I'm not going to "tag" anyone on this list though, as I always fear that this is an unwelcome imposition. But they should feel free to join in if they wish.

Okay. Straight away, I struck a problem. How to choose five blogs randomly? But I did want to be random, because if I was playing favourites, I'd never be able to stop at just five! So I wrote out all the No Kidding blogs on my Feedly list. Then I added the ALI blogs that I read regularly. Cut them up, shook them up in a plastic bag I had close to hand, and drew out five. When I realised that three of these hadn't posted in a year, and another had only posted once in about two years, I discarded them, and tried again. Better luck with this list of more regular bloggers.

This is my Valentines list:

That's Ms. Infertile to You I've been reading Hgavin for a long time. She's a profuse poster on her blog, and I love that she so accurately conveys the vibrancy of Berlin, a city I've visited once but only for a few days. The best things though are that she has a sense of humour, and opinions on infertility issues and debates that she isn't afraid to share. I've linked to her new infertility/no kids blog first, but you can find her original blog here.

The Barrenness is creative and thoughtful and funny. She never fails to make me think, and her efforts in reclaiming her body are inspiring.

POF and Now What? A blog from Amsterdam, another city I loved but have visited (twice) for only a short time, and I love thinking I have a friend there. V is now a parent, but I don't feel our blogging relationship has changed at all. I appreciate her honesty, here and on her blog, and the careful way she thinks about life, and the fact she's never been scared away from my No Kidding life.

Not a Wasted Word is a relatively new blog from someone I have been reading for a long time. I can't remember if she found me or I found her, but despite our different lives (she has two children), I also love that she hasn't been scared away from reading or talking about a no kidding life either. I love her ability and willingness to look inside herself, and her frank, sometimes excruciating honesty, all in a quest to be better. I find it very inspiring to read how hard she strives.

And last, but never least, I had to smile when I plucked out Silent Sorority. I feel as if Pamela is the leader of our little band of No Kidding bloggers and readers. She paved the way before the rest of us, and I have no doubt she'll still be here when I've moved on. Pamela is articulate, intelligent and thoughtful. I love that she advocates so fiercely for women without children, and has moved on to thinking about infertility/no kids policy issues in society and the economy. She is the much-valued leader of our not-so-silent-anymore sorority, and I love her for that.

PS:  Oops. I see now that Mel suggested just one sentence for each person/blog. No-one would seriously expect me to be able to stick to that though!

09 February, 2015

#MicroblogMondays Quote: Choosing not to worry

I take refuge in the fact that I can't change anything by agonizing about it, so I don't.

My husband can do this; I think many men can. I remember telling him how much I wanted to be able to do this. The idea of saying “I choose not to worry” was, especially when I was in the midst of loss and infertility, completely unfathomable.

I learned though that it was possible to do this when I stopped imagining myself as a mother, when I knew thinking and worrying would achieve nothing but bring me pain. I’m better at it now, but still not a master. But I can tell my brain, sometimes, to put something away till later. I call that progress.