Categories
Random thoughts teaching Work

On the generosity of my cherubs…

I’m athsmatic. It’s only slight, but it’s enough to be annoying, depending on the season and the generosity of sick family members.

So with the change of job this year, I thought I’d better get jabbed with this year’s strain of fluvax. New kids at the new school equals new germs, and all that.

So it surprised me when, three days ago, I got sick. I’d just been congratulating myself on an illness-free year! (Whoops. Pride before a fall and all that… wonder when I’ll learn…) It’s November. Summer’s just two weeks away. And I’m the proud owner of a headcold, courtesy my lovely family!

It started as a sore throat. I’d forgotten just how painful a sore throat could be. It’d been probably at least 18 months since my last one.

Enter Hubby with his juicer. He juices daily, two litres at least, a mixture of oranges, lemons and the occasional grapefruit.

And that, combined with Codral, Panadol, and chicken soup, has knocked this on the head. Mostly.

I even managed to make it to the gym over the weekend! Not strenuous workouts, to be sure, but some activity at least.

And that’s made me feel even better. All those endorphins whizzing around and smashing into each other, having a massive party inside my body. What a wonderful thought!

So. Illness, begone. It’s two weeks til holidays, and I do NOT want you gatecrashing my free time!

How about you, dear Reader? How’s your health been this year?

And have a great week!

_ KRidwyn

Categories
#blogjune family anecdotes teaching

touching wood…

#blogJune, for me, meant that it was vomiting bug season. Weird, I know, but last year was the first year since 2011 – when I started #bloggingJune – wherein I was *not* dealing with my cherubs deciding to catch said bug. I held my breath (metaphorically) throughout the whole month, and was glad that not once did I need to clean up after a child.

This year, we’re now almost halfway through the month, and again it would seem that we may not *touch wood* have the ‘pleasure’ of a vomiting bug visit.

I’m okay with that.

I *was* at home with a sick Miss9 today, however her racking coughs and running nose seemed to clear significantly from the good food, bed rest, and Mummy company, so I’m hopeful she’ll mend quickly. She’s my healthiest, strongest kid, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s up and running around as per normal by tomorrow.

Which is good. What with the amount of plates I’m juggling in the new job at the moment, it’s kinda needed that I be there, rather than at home, at the moment!

Anyway, that’s where I’m at, at the moment.

Have a great day, dear Reader!

— KRidwyn

 

Categories
#blogjune Blogging challenges Life

A day late…

So I have data again; which is AWESOME! I can blog again, and not just use up the final remaining minutes I have left of my phone data!

This brings up a different issue however: blogging at my keyboard.

Specifically, typing at said keyboard.

Specifically, typing.

You see, I was rushing to work last week, and slammed the sliding door of my house too quickly – slicing the tip off the middle finger of my right hand.

I know, right? Ouchies much!

The most annoying thing: I type. A LOT! And I can’t use that finger because any pressure on the finger tip continues the ouchie-feeling for longer than I want it to.

Solution: type with all other fingers. Boy, are my ring finger and pinky getting a workout!

Sigh.

Oh – and I’m a day late at blogging June for Day 13. Whoops…

Here’s hoping you had a great day yesterday, dear Reader!

— KRidwyn

Categories
#AtoZchallenge Blogging challenges Random thoughts

O is for ‘opine’

(verb) to think; deem; hold or express an opinion, or as one’s opinion

I do this. I think. I deem. I hold an opinion – and like to express said opinion. Sometimes, the opinion I express is even my own 😀 [I’ve tried it on for size, decided I liked it, concluded that it suited me – or perhaps I suited it? – and claimed it for my own.]

But you already knew that, dear reader. I *do* have a blog, after all!

I enjoy having a definite point of view on issues. I quite like having a voice, and sometimes even the odd person who listens. Strokes the ego, as it were. I must admit, I *like* opining.

I deem it necessary for my mental health.

What’s necessary for yours?

And have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

Categories
More about me Random thoughts

It seems Hubby was right…

Lucky for me, my Hubby never reads my blog. So I can freely mention here that he was right and I was wrong, and the chances of his reading it and gloating, are virtually nil.

Because this last week, I have discovered just how correct he was.

[Spoiler alert: references to early morning starts and gym equipment are imminent…]

So a couple of years back, I joined Hubby at his Krav Maga training. Fast forward to 2016, and I’d passed a couple of gradings and was happy with how things are going… but then the instructor decides to change from Saturday morning classes to Friday night ones. Problem. Cherubs aren’t quite so biddable on Friday nights.

So I “stepped away”.

And although yes, that meant more time for writing (YES!!!) it also meant that without something keeping me motivated to exercise, I… well… didn’t.

So a couple of weeks back, I finally let Hubby convince me to join his gym.

Screen Shot 2016-07-31 at 8.24.30 PMMe. 42 years old. Never joined a gym before in my life.

Scared doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt. I figured that there was going to be pain. Lots of pain. And I’m kinda averse to that idea.

And I was right. There was, indeed, pain – but it was manageable. And you know what? I enjoyed it. I went back, giving myself more pain. Barely manageable this time, but I survived. And now? Well, let’s not say the phrase ‘gym junkie’ – but I understand the attraction. I’m up at 4.30 and at the gym by 5 past 5; leaving by ten to 6 to be home at 6.10am, getting the kids and myself ready for school and work. It’s do-able. And I’m LOVING it! Hubby said I would.

And you know what?

He was right. Just don’t tell him! And have a great week, dear reader 🙂

— KRidwyn

 

Categories
#AtoZchallenge Blogging challenges Christianity Random thoughts

26 lessons from God’s metaphors: #24

Just three more posts to go in this #AtoZchallenge for April. And today’s letter, ‘X’ has (in Mum’s cross-stitch, picture below) the phrase ‘eXalted one’ and the verse Acts 5:30-31.

It was fairly difficult writing this post. I think that’s because I’m a born and bred Aussie. And although I’m definitely VERY proud of this fact, we truth remains that we don’t do too well with ‘exalting’ things down here. In fact, it’s the opposite which is the cultural norm.

Down here, we’re well known for our ‘Tall Poppy Syndrome’.

And I don’t think that’s a good thing. In fact, if you read yesterday’s post, it reflected on how words have power, and we can use them to either heal or harm, build up or destroy. We have the choice of our own words.

Likewise, we have the choice of our own attitudes. Here in Australia, we’re better at tearing the successful down rather than giving them the credit they deserve. That’s not healthy, in my opinion.

And God Himself set the example, too. Those verses in Acts read:

X

“The God of our ancestors raised Jesus from the dead—whom you killed by hanging him on a cross. God exalted him to his own right hand as Prince and Saviour that he might being Israel to repentance and forgive their sins.”

In this passage, one of Jesus’ followers, a guy called Peter, was standing with his friends in what was their version of court. Judging him were all the religious leaders of the biggest city in Israel. These were the people EVERYONE looked up too – and here Peter is, accusing them! ‘Whom you killed by hanging him on a cross’! What courage, hey?

God exalted Jesus, so that the religious leaders – and, in fact, all Israelites, and through them, the whole world – could repent (as in, say sorry for sins committed) and they could be forgiven.

Praise God that He did, huh?

And my takeaway lesson from that? If God exalted Jesus, then I should too. And perhaps build up my fellow man, encouraging them and giving them the credit where credit is due 🙂

Your thoughts?

Have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

 

x

Categories
#AtoZchallenge Blogging challenges Christianity teaching Work

26 lessons from God’s metaphors: #21

I’m an insomniac. Not chronically, but fairly regularly. It doesn’t particularly bother me, most of the time, because I know I’m able to cope with whatever comes my way… but ever so often, the sleepless nights will build up to such an extent that it starts worrying me, and I’ll wonder if I’m ever getting to get a proper night’s sleep again. The sense of relief when that night’s sleep *does* come is just beautiful!

That’s what happened last night.

For over a week now, it’s been Mr7 who’s the main reason for my wakefulness  – he’d have a nightmare, I’d get up to him, and then I’d be unable to fall asleep again for hours and hours.

And yes, last night he also got me up at just gone 11.30pm. But I got back to bed again before midnight.

And at 5.48am this morning, I woke up. I LOVE this feeling of having slept!!!

Now in my opinion, sleep isn’t such a big deal. Not in the grander scheme of things. I know that if I’d had yet another sleepless night, that this morning would still have come, and I’d still have coped with whatever today has in store for me… but it’s lovely that I can face it with a larger reserve of patience under my belt! [Right now I’m reminded of the Robert Ludlum JASON BOURNE series. “Rest is a weapon,” Jason Bourne said regularly :)]

But I also know that God cares about it. Because in the book of Matthew, chapter 10, verses 29 to 31, Jesus says, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”

He knows how many hairs are on my head? He cares about things THAT minutely?

That’s pretty mind-boggling.

Today’s letter in the #AtoZchallenge is ‘U’. And my mum’s cross-stitch shows the Earth being held in two upraised hands, with the words ‘Upholder of all things.”
The verse is Hebrews chapter 1 verse 3. And we’re back to the King James version for this wording:

U“Who being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high”.

Modern translations of this verse use the word ‘sustaining’ instead of ‘upholding’: “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven.”

He upholds (sustains) ALL things. My sleep included, if I wanted it! A colleague once shared with me, decades ago now, the events surrounding his new-born child’s health. The child had been born VERY sickly (I can’t remember the exact condition) but the doctors were very worried. So my colleague, in great distress, prayed about it. And felt led to pray for very specific things. Instead of ‘please heal my child’, it was ‘ask for her heart rate to slow down’ (the first thing that was needed for her recovery) – so he prayed for her heart rate to slow, and it did. Then the second specific thing that was needed, he prayed for, and her body responded. Then the third thing (I wish I could remember, but it *was* many years ago) and the same thing happened. Several times over, until his new-born child was completely out of danger. The doctors were amazed – as was I, when he told me the story. But that’s God for you: upholder (sustainer) of ALL things. If he numbers even the hairs on our heads, then of COURSE he can work to sustain that new-born’s life.

He could also work in my insomniac issues – if I asked Him to.

Maybe I need to do just that, hey?

God is the ‘Upholder of all things’ – so everything that bothers me, I can bring to Him to deal with. My takeaway lesson for day 21.

Have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

 

Categories
family anecdotes More about me teaching Work

What I learned, going bald

This time last year, I did it. I shaved my head.

I’d always said I would, you know. I’d wondered what being bald might feel like, since I hit double digits. I’d always imagined a sense of freedom; the chance to ‘reinvent myself’ as it were; the ability to start afresh; be a new me; be who I wanted to be; and so on and so forth, with all the gush which comes from being young and living life intensely.

Screen Shot 2016-03-20 at 8.40.01 pmAs the years went by, I still wondered about it. Then all of a sudden, I realised I was getting older. (Took a while. Dumb, I know.) Which meant, if I wanted to shave my head and NOT have people think I actually *did* have cancer, the years were running out for me to get around to doing it.

Screen Shot 2016-03-20 at 8.39.42 pmSo last year, at 40, I did it. I shaved my head.

“This will be a once-in-a-lifetime thing!” I insisted to my extremely unimpressed Hubby. It didn’t reassure him.

“It’ll grow back!” I told my children; my own three cherubs, and the 400 plus primary school students I teach on a weekly basis. They weren’t sure they believed me. Neither was I, to tell the truth.

I did it anyway.

It grew back. Slowly.

This is Shave plus One Year.

IMG_0945

So – was it all I hoped for? Alas, no. Is anything?

In hindsight, I spent too long allaying the fears of others to relish the moment. And that’s okay – I’m not sure if I really did enjoy the experience as much as I hoped I would. There wasn’t too much re-inventing of myself happening, that’s for sure…

The attention was enjoyable, sure. I mean, who doesn’t like that? And it certainly was novel; I’d never in a million years realised I’d need to unstick my head from the car headrest, where my spiky regrowth had attached me like Velcro!

Just the other day, staff at my school shaved their heads again. I watched, remembering.

I won’t do it again. I was happy with the funds I raised, and pray for a cure, and am satisfied with my contributions to the cause thus far. But I shan’t shave my head again. And my family are happy about that.

How about you – have you ever shaved your head? Would you?

Categories
family anecdotes Random thoughts Technology

Idiocy sometimes helps

I learn Krav Maga. It’s a form of Martial Arts practiced by the Israeli Defense Forces. Hubby and I take classes every Saturday morning, and I love it. Not only for the fitness (because I *definitely* need that aspect of it!) but also for the self-confidence I now have that, should something happen, I can deal with the situation.

Unfortunately, the ol’ brain wasn’t working too well when confronted with a mother-gifted pot-bound plant the other weekend. It was stuck. As in, imagine a plant the size of a large Rottweiler, in a pot that would comfortably fit a Chihuahua. (Not that I’m advocating squashing animals into pots, here!) It was a problem. I needed to force that plant out – so (it being Saturday afternoon) I did what I’d been practicing and unthinkingly hammer-punched the edge of the pot base, trying to dislodge it.

Ouch! Instant pain brought me to my senses again. Note to self: a large, black, circular plastic pot does not feel the same, when hit, as a large, black, circular punching pad. Idiot. But it did provide me with resolution number one: don’t do that again!

So I ate left-handed for a couple of days.

I was also doing quite a lot of typing around that time, and noticed that I was straining my right hand further, due to the sheer number of times I was pressing ‘backspace’ at the top right of my keyboard. You see, I don’t type ‘properly’; I never have. My right hand is faster, so it kinda covers all the letters from r (top row) and f (middle) and v (bottom row) and my left just sits and presses a key every once in a while. So this brought about resolution number two: learn to type properly.

Thanks to the 100 free lessons provided by TypingClub, I now can. And I’m happy with that. That my stupidity could provide the impetus to do something that I’d been putting off for simply ages.

Thank God for lessons learned, hey? Even if they’re painful ones…

Have a great week, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

Categories
Life random scribblings teaching

On death and other such stuff…

So I wrote last week about motivations; what’s the *real* reason behind people – and characters in novels – doing what they do. Is it all explainable? If so, then is it forgiveable? When is a crime a crime? All that kind of thing. I was trying to puzzle out how to go about writing a torture scene for my current WIP (Work in Progress). I was concerned that, having had zero experience with torturing someone – physically, anyway; I’m fairly sure that I hurt people emotionally in my past, and I’m sorry and I regret it – and having zero experience also of being tortured physically, that my writing of a torture scene would be just simply inane. How could I write something successfully when I had – you guessed it, zero! – first hand experience? Yes, imagination is all well and good, but in my opinion it’s not good enough when potential readers *have* real experience of torture, and who may find my treatment of it inane, hurtful, derogatory, deprecating. So I was worried.

And so, after several hours stewing, chewing my nails about it, and so on, I did the only thing I could do. I needed a torture scene, so I sat down and wrote it. As best I could. I guess it’s just a wait-and-see what my beta-readers think of it when I finally get it to them, huh?

I had death on my mind rather more than normal this week. Not only because I wrote my first ever torture scene, in which the character died as a consequence, but also because my doctor suggested it to me on Monday. You see, I was finalising the paperwork for Mr6’s future autism allied health visits, and needed his signature. He signed away happily, then looked at me, and asked how I was going. If I was sick at all. I said yes, I’d been sick since last Thursday, and it had gone through the throat on fire and the runny nose, to my chest. He said, “Come on in, let’s check you out” and ushered me into his office quite smartly. I was surprised, I didn’t have an appointment. Long story short, I was at 50% lung capacity and hadn’t realised. He’d asked me what my athsma was normally like, when I wasn’t having an attack like I was right then. I replied that I wasn’t having an attack, that my breathing had been like that all day. He was very, very concerned. I explained that my reason (there’s that word again!) for not using my ventolin was that, whenever I use it when I have a headcold, the ventolin reacts badly with that nodule on my vocal cords, and I end up with laryngitis for AGES. The last time, it took over 6 weeks to clear. And as a 0.7FTE teacher, I can’t afford to lose my voice.

He said, “Just imagine if you got to the stage where you’re down to only 30%, and you’re in the shower, with all the humidity, trying to get air in, and then something triggered an attack. I’d hate to think what might happen.” Which made me think. Seeing as my husband regularly works a ridiculous-number-of-hours-week, I’m primary care-giver to my three gorgeous cherubs. And I would hate them to be traumatised by one of them finding me curled up on the floor of the bathroom, turning blue, gasping for air, at 10pm at night [not to mention I couldn’t afford the therapist fees], so I reluctantly agreed. Laryngitis versus death. I guess one is infinitely preferable to the other.

I was amused, initially, at how ‘serious’ it all was… until it occurred to me that having only 50% lung capacity was kinda like I’d been walking around and doing stuff with just one lung. So I did as the doc suggested. I bought my own Peak Flow meter (my God, those things are expensive!!!) and have been diligently taking my meds (so much for the ‘drowsy’ side effects; I’ve had insomnia all week) and my stats have slowly risen from the 240 which I blew Monday afternoon, and the low of 150 that I got to on Monday night, back up to the 340 mark. Which is good. Someone of my height should be blowing at around 480, apparently, so I’m getting there.

So yes, death has preoccupied me a little. This morning though, I’m more thinking about pain. Because for the first time in a few weeks, I did my Krav Maga session yesterday morning. And boy, oh boy, am I feeling it today!

Have a great week, dear reader!

— KRidwyn