Words and Actions

My parents always told me that actions speak louder than words. I believe this to be true, however I still struggle with seeing the actions myself when all I want is to hear the words. The Boy read my last post about my little rant about his family, and pointed out that they have done a lot for us (action) even though they may not be saying what I want to hear. I don't doubt this at all, they have done a lot for us and helped us out immensely, and for that I am grateful. I still stand by what I said however, but it has me thinking that I am still putting all the emphasis on the words and not on the actions.

I don't really know how this came to be, perhaps it is the writer in me and the fact that I was always journaling throughout my childhood right up until now. I can even remember being in school, probably only year 1 or 2, asking if my friends still "liked me". I wasn't the "leader" and she could be mean and would often kick one of us out for a few days each week until she "liked" us again. For me the words have been everything, and the actions, I just didn't really give them the attention they deserved.

Even though I know now that actions really do speak louder than words, I am still looking for the words. I refused to be the first one to say "I love you", even though The Boy was packing up his entire life two hours away to be with me, he had to say it first, all the stuff he did to show me didn't matter, I needed the words. I suppose the same could be said about my issue with his family. Their actions indicate just how much they care about us, but I just need the words, I just need to be asked some questions and allowed to talk and be talked back to.

The interesting thing is though, when something does happen it is the words that immediately fix the situation. As soon as I utter "I love you", "I'm sorry." "I was wrong" or "Please forgive me", it just fixes everything in an instant. It doesn't matter if it is with The Boy, family, friends or even people at work, everything is suddenly fixed.

This is an issue I have been aware of for some time and slowly I am looking at the actions and trying to put less and less emphasis on the words, and in turn I am showing love more with my actions and less with my words as well (although nothing beats a hand written card, composed entirely in the moment, complete with a little cross out here and there). It has become clear that The Boy and I do speak different love languages, but we are slowly learning how to communicate with each other. So baby, if you are reading this, thank you for opening my eyes, putting me in another person's shoes, and reminding me I am a work in progress.

Image: Flickr

You Don't Just Get The Boy

You get his entire family as well. Before I continue I will start by saying that I am very very fortunate. The Boy's family are lovely people, very caring and giving and extremely generous. They will help you out in whatever way they can. They also like me, I am the first girl (and only one) that has been given the nod of approval, they love me and I love them. I do think it is a little unfortunate that they are two hours away because I would be happy to spend more time with them (yes I really did just say that).

However, yesterday FMIL called The Boy advising him (try warning) that his brother (let's call him FBIL - Future Brother in Law), was going to be calling him to ask a favour. That favour being if he could possibly live with us for around 8 weeks. FBIL is going through some changes in is life, and has decided that he would like to go to TAFE and study. The course he wants to get into is only offered in two locations, Newcastle and Sydney. Ideally FMIL wants him to go to Sydney because of certain "issues" and if he moved here he would get away from his "mates" who unfortunately are leading him on a path of destruction. You are who your friends are, and his "mates" are the kind of people that you don't want to know. For the last 12 months at least, everyone has been trying to get him away from them, without any success.

Then we come into it. If he comes to Sydney to study he will be away from these people and have a much better chance at improving his life and leaving all those..... "bogans" (and yes that is me being nice about it) behind. Of course my initial reaction was "NO!!!!". "Never going to happen, no way." Sure he is family, but let's look at what can happen. If he moves in, he will have a room, and I will not clean it, and I suspect he won't either. I will not do his washing, so I don't think he will have clean clothes, and I certainly will not cook for him, in which case he will probably just attack our stockpile of frozen meals I have spent many long nights making for times when we can't be bothered and so we don't resort to take away. There is no way I want any of his mates stepping inside and no girls staying the night. I do not want to be his mother and I am not sure if he has the skills to look after himself.

Of course, if we say "No.", then it is clear that I was the one saying no, because The Boy wouldn't do that to his brother. And if that is the case I can kiss the friendly relationships goodbye. To be honest I personally think it was a little.... "brash" of FMIL to even ask for the favour, especially given some recent discussions The Boy has had with FMIL regarding FBIL. But what can we do? We have to let him stay. Of course there will be a page long list of ground rules. "No drinking, no girls, no late nights, no smoking, no mates, no long showers, no stealing of food...." (And I thought I wasn't ready to be a parent).

A lot to think about and work out and discuss, but I guess all I want to say is that I am frustrated. Nothing ever seems to be about us, it is always about other people, always about FBIL and his issues or FSIL (Future Sister in Law) and The Baby, or Person X or Person Y, it never ever seems to be about us. We are doing fine and have no problems (FMIL's words not mine) so therefore we don't need any attention, we are just expected to help everyone else out. It would be so nice to have one day where it is about us, where we could actually share with his family what our dreams are, what our plans are for the future, and it would be nice if someone actually asked me what I wanted to do with my life aside from my own parents!

Ok I've ranted, I could go on, but I won't (esp if FMIL ever found this blog and goes through the archives I better shut up now). But at least I have my blog, where I can share my dreams and plans and everything wonderful about my life and know that someone is listening.

Image: Flickr

Blog This: Challenge 13 - Gifts

This week's challenge at Blog This is 5 gifts I would want for my next birthday. I decided to be highly superficial about this, and if The Boy sees this I think he will be running as fast as he can, otherwise I may just send him broke....

1) Pink Sapphire. I received a pink sapphire and diamond ring for my 21st that everyone in my family contributed too. At the end of last year the sapphire disappeared in The Dump (I knew that place had bad energy). And after searching everywhere for it, including going through all the crap in the vacuum cleaner, it never showed up. So I would love a replacement stone so I can wear my ring again.2) A new car. My current car is very old, and damaged and needs to be replaced sooner rather than later (I'm fortunate it has lasted this long). The Boy suggested I would look good in a mini Cooper S, and I think I agree with him - as long as he is paying ;)3) A brand new 100% latex king size bed complete with luxury Egyptian cotton sheets. Pure bliss, there is nothing better in the world than a perfect night's sleep, and a latex bed can give that to me.4) A publishing contract, ideally now so I could get some money to stop working and finish the 2kg mess once and for all.5) Financial freedom, so if I don't get any of the above I can just go and buy them anyway, and of course so I could stop working and actually do something meaningful with my life. Like volunteer work and joining the CWA.

Images: Flickr, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

Green Thumb

I really was born with a green thumb, and I am finding it really hard to keep this a short post as I could blog all day about my love affair with gardening. As soon as I could walk I would sit outside with Dad and watch him work the garden, when I was old enough I would help in whatever way I could. We moved house when I was 10 and a year later I decided I was ready to do some gardening all on my own. Dad carved out a bed for me and away I went. I was constantly expanding the bed to make way for more and more plants. We always had fresh veggies and flowers and each year I would try new things. It is no surprise then that for my Year 10 Work Experience I picked a nursery.

This love affair continued until mum decided about 4 or 5 years ago to move into a townhouse in a attempt to get my brother and I to move out (I'd already moved out twice by this stage and returned both times). That was the end of gardening. Had a few pots a mum's but it wasn't the same.

Since I met The Boy and we moved in together, the intention to start with some pots was always there, but it never happened, because something always came up. However, I tapped into my desire to totally re-vamp The Penthouse and took The Boy to the nursery on Saturday morning for some seeds because we were going to start from scratch. We have been slowly eating more organic food, it is expensive though, so the only organic stuff we buy is fruit or veg that requires you to eat the skin, such as apples and zucchini. Of course it would be much cheaper to just grow organic produce ourselves, and until we get our dream acreage and can plant anything we want, we have to make do with pots.

The Boy had to stop me from buying every packet of seeds on the shelf, telling me we need to start small, so we only bought some heirloom tomatoes, capsicum and basil. We eat a lot of tomatoes in summer, so these were a must, and you cannot have tomatoes without basil, and the capsicum came in seven different colours, and I am a sucker for cool stuff like that. We also bought some lavender because I love the smell of it and want to eventually make some lavender wands for gifts and for my clothes.

Yesterday the planting began, we had a seed germination tray and seed raising mix and put the babies in. As I ripped open the seed packet The Boy peered over.
"They look like the seeds you actually get from the vegetables."
I looked up at him and laughed, he was being serious.
"Yes sweetie, that is because they are from the vegetables and are not genetically engineered."
He has so much to learn (just like I have so much to learn about engineering, he is trying to teach me but I find it a little boring).

A quick spray with water, and the anticipation begins. Waiting for those first shoots to spring up from the soil and then for those first leaves to open. I remember it all now. And of course in three months time we will have lots of lovely organic tomatoes, basil and capsicum. I think I will be inviting everyone I know over for home made organic bruschetta. Could there be a more perfect summer food?

Spring Is In The Air

Spring is almost here, I can literally feel it. I walk outside and the air is not only warmer, but it feels lighter too, it doesn't feel as harsh as the winter air. Autumn is my favourite season, but I must admit, come the end of August I am over the cold and looking forward to Spring. I am hoping it stays this way and that next week I can stop wearing stockings. Especially because when I buy the expensive ones (almost $10 each) they last a week and when I buy the cheap ones, they do last longer but my legs are either orange or pink, and with my very colourless porcelain complexion, neither is a good look for me.

Of course the new season means a lot of things. Firstly it represents spring cleaning. This past week (maybe even two weeks) I have been looking all around The Penthouse thinking about how everything has to be cleaned. All the drawers, cupboards, and going through everything and actually throwing out the stuff that is taking up space. In the past this has been fine, because it has been localised to a room and a bathroom cabinet, (I never bothered spring cleaning when I was living with room mates because they never wanted to). But now I have a whole Penthouse. This is going to take weeks!

It is also a reminder that shortly the legs and arms will be on display and the rest of the body will only have one layer of material covering it. This is usually when I go and join another weight loss program and hit the gym hard and try and improve my diet and all that crap. It never works because I obsess about my weight and food and exercise (and beat myself up for not going 6 times a week) and it is all I can think about that eventually I just snap and throw it all away and choose to live again.

This Spring, however, will be different. There will be no diet, and the only exercise will be going for walks with The Boy (and as that improves adding some running intervals into it). I am actually going to continue living my life the way it is and instead spend a few weeks obsessing about cleaning and leaving it at that. Since getting off the meds, my appetite has at least halved, and now that I am in the right head space, I am naturally eating better anyway. The Boy and I allow ourselves one night a week for any crap food we may want and the rest of the time we just eat well to nourish our bodies (which includes a piece of homemade cake for morning tea). I am finding now that I am loving and respecting myself again (without the constant need to eat via medication), eating better is so much easier and doesn't require much thinking at all (and eating chocolate during PMS is normal eating).

I have been doing a lot of reading this year about food as well, and all the artificial crap that goes into it, and The Boy and I have been making changes accordingly, and tomorrow we are taking another step towards that and towards a slightly more sustainable life. I'll blog about it next time, have a great weekend.

Image: Flickr

One Night Widow

The Boy won't be coming home tonight so I will not see him till 5:30 tomorrow afternoon :( I shouldn't complain because I know so many women out there have their husbands/partners leaving for work all the time and sometimes for weeks on end and I am very fortunate, but because he is always with me at night I am used to it and even just one night apart isn't nice.

He is away for work, he was asked to be in the fire team and today is the day of some state wide fire competition. I thought it was all a little weird, but he explained it to me on our one hour walk yesterday (yep it took that long for me to understand the whole thing). So today he is running with a hose and putting out fires. Then tonight is a big dinner to celebrate the competition and hand out awards and no wives allowed, so his boss thought it was best if he spent the night in a hotel so he wasn't driving back late at night to get a few hours sleep before going back to work on Friday.

The Boy has left me a few times before. The first was just overnight. I cried (and wondered what happened to my fiercely independent "I'm never relying on a man" attitude) and stayed with mum overnight and was on the phone to him every chance I had. The second time he told me only a few days in advance that he had to go do some training beyond the Blue Mountains and was gone for three nights. That was hard. We were living in The Dump at that point and it scared the crap out of me. Whenever I was there alone, I never actually felt that I was alone, that and the neighbours were breaking windows and their kids were dealing drugs to their friends that pulled up out the front in their car for just five minutes (yeah, real subtle), so again I went to mum's house. No tears, but a lot of phone calls, and he got teased because he had to share with one of the guys and apparently he was calling out my name each night. By the day he was arriving home I couldn't wait, as nice as it was to spend time with mum and my bro, after three nights I'd had enough and was ready to leave.

The last time was an overnighter. This time I decided to be a "big girl" about it and stayed in The Penthouse. I hardly managed any sleep as I waking up every hour looking around for him. Tonight I am going to mum's for dinner, unsure if I will stay afterwards. I suppose I should enjoy the alone time, but I get my alone time anyway. The Boy is always asking if he can "play the x-box". Which is code for "Let's each do our own thing now and when we have it out of our system we can be together again". I get that at least once a week which I am grateful for. I am looking forward to being a kid again tonight. Having mum cook me dinner and probably being stupid with my brother, ending up in an argument and having mum come in to shut us both up. Ah, family.

I do miss him and when he is not around I really feel it. Sometimes I wonder if it means I am too dependant on him. But then we don't have a dependant relationship at all. We are two emotionally healthy people who just want to spend as much time with each other as possible. So I guess it must just be love. Real love, the kind I always dreamed about for most of my life. And it is then that I realise I'm not a little girl anymore, I am finally a "grown up" and fortunate enough to have found the person to share this journey with, someone to do all the "grown up" things with and someone to love and be loved in return.

Something To Wear

I have a lot of clothes in my wardrobe, unfortunately however I can only fit into about 3-5% of them. I have not bought myself new clothes for about 6 months now. Because, you know, what is the point, I'm going to loose weight so it would just be a waste of money. It has meant that on the weekends I have a choice of two outfits. I can wear the very baggy boyfriend style jeans with the grey long sleeve top and the black tee over it, or I can wear my black skirt with a dark coloured long sleeve tee. Neither of these two outfits makes me feel good about myself, I think I either look too daggy and sloppy or too conservative and old.

Since getting off the meds three weeks ago my appetite has gone down dramatically and as a result I have lost 1.3kg. This is a great result, especially considering my focus has been on health, not weight loss. However, I am not going to wake up one morning and magically have the 25kg I gained from the meds disappear overnight. It is going to take time, maybe a year, maybe two years. So on Saturday I told The Boy that I was not going to spend Spring and Summer in the same pair of jeans or the same skirt. I am sick and tired of looking like a dag, I want to look nice everyday and feel good about what I wear. I told him I was actually going to spend some money on clothes. Not a lot, just get a few nice, cheaper clothes to last me the season.

FMIL came down on Sunday to spend the day with us and we went out to breakfast at my favourite place which just happens to be outside our local Westfield. We decided to look around and The Boy wanted to get some jeans and with two for $99 I decided to get a nice pair too. FMIL was fussing around the shop and pulled out a top for me. I had seen it and already ruled it out, but I smiled politely and went to try it on. Surprise surprise it looked amazing, so I bought it.

We continued to walk around and we found ourselves inside a women's clothing shop known for being "affordable" and with generous clothing sizes. I picked out about four tops and thought I would try them on and just buy one or two. FMIL also decided to pick out tops for me. Tops I wouldn't even look at because they are not my "style" (not that I have a style, it is something I need to develop but I would say at that point my style was covering up). However I politely went to try them on. I had over ten tops in the change room and The Boy and FMIL standing just outside waiting for me to come out and model the clothes. That I never do. I like to stay in the change room and decide for myself, I have never had the balls to step outside, at risk of random strangers seeing me and showing other people. On Sunday I didn't have a choice. To my surprise all of the tops FMIL picked out looked amazing on, they looked slimming and fitted me perfectly, they suited me and my age. This woman definitely knows about fashion. I was very impressed, I have so much to learn.

I ended up in total with a great pair of dark flare jeans that can be dressed up or dressed down, that fit my current body shape perfectly, and nine tops. I now have a variety of clothes I can wear now and I couldn't be happier. It has only been a few days but it has changed me. I suddenly care more, I'm paying more attention to my make up instead of the usual look I go for, I'm styling my hair differently, I am walking with my head up and I am not adjusting my clothes while I wear them. I am worried now that she may have unleashed something within me. Something that is telling me to find my style, to experiment and not to be afraid and to be myself. I love FMIL and I told her next time I need clothes I am going with her. The woman I was afraid to say anything to in case I said the wrong thing is now turning out to be my shopping buddy and personal stylist. Who would have thought.