Thursday, August 29, 2013
Today was a rest day for me. Or let's just say I made it a rest day, as I am running errands with my Dear Husband (of 13 years) It's OK, resting is good for my body too. And for my marriage.
We drove to town together in my car, but he was in charge of the schedule. So we did what he does every morning- have coffee at his favorite coffee shop with his buddies. Six of them do this Every Morning!?
I was sitting there, with my hand on his leg, talking and laughing normally when my husband's friend, who is also my gynaecologist walks past. (Sorry Sparkies, I CANNOT be friends with my gynea, hate going there to much. Association with discomfort etc) He looks directly at us, glares at my husband and stalks off.
We were both taken aback, what was that?! I made eye contact with him, he realised that it was me and came back to chat. It then turns out that he did not recognise me, and thought that DH had traded me in for a new thinner model.
If he wasn't a gynea, I could really like that guy. A medical professional and loyal to his patients too.
I am so happy I lost 42kg. I just have to remember to turn a deaf ear if I hear rumours of my DH having an affair. In our town people might not recognise me and some of them would put it out on the grape vine for sure.
It is that kind of town.
You see Sparkies: My Husband's New Girlfriend is ME!
Monday, August 05, 2013
I met Neil, a young man in his mid twenties, a couple of years ago. We attend the same gym at the same time most days. He has special needs, is physically able but mentally about 7-10 years old. His grandmother drops him off to exercise every morning for two hours. Neil is very careful not to keep her waiting- he is out the door in a flash when he sees her car. Most people at the gym enjoy Neil's company. He insists on doing many things wrong, which makes the trainers cringe. Fearing he might injure himself, but he has done it his way for so many years without problems that nobody corrects him anymore. He always greets everybody, he always stops for a chat. He always tells me that his bones are not made of milk by God, like everybody else, they are made of titanium steel in a lab. He always shows me his muscles. He always asks about my daughter who has special needs too. I love Neil. He adds joy to my time at the gym.
The thing with Neil is, he has an eye for a beautiful girl, as well as impeccable taste. He especially loves talking to the really sexy ones, like the female personal trainers for instance. (Not the older, overweight ones like me. I get about 5 minutes of his time) He would hang around them, chatting non-stop while they are working with their clients.
Sometimes this offends. I suppose if you are paying someone to help you work out, and to focus on you, Neil does not add to the experience. Some people just ignore him. Some are irritated but not willing to say anything. Some people just plain don't know how to handle the situation.
As a mom, of a child with special needs I would like to give the following pointers. For all who wondered.
Recognise a disabled child's worth as a person. Speak to the heart of the person, while looking into their eyes, there might be a lot of 'noise' going around in the brain, but the heart is where the spirit lives, it understands more than we think. Recognise that you are talking to the seven year old who lives in the grown person's body. Make sure your body language agrees with what is coming out of your mouth.
Speak the truth simply and with love.
Say: Neil, we had a wonderful talk, it was great. Now I have to concentrate on my client's workout. I cannot talk to you right now. We will talk later. If you do the circuit, I will keep an eye on you. I can see that you are getting stronger every day.
As easy as that, and hang on to your sense of humour.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Emilina is a single mother who works with me. She was mugged yesterday. She lives in a township that is notoriously violent called Pienaar. She does not take her lunch hour or tea time so that she can leave early, to run the gauntlet to get home while it is still light outside...
She lives in Pienaar, because that is where her aunt lives. Her aunt looks after her 9 month old baby with love and affection, while she is at work.
The way Emilina likes it.
She was yanked around by three masked men. One of them shot a bullet into the ground at her feet. They stole her wallet with her bus ticket, her government grant card and all her money that has to last till the end of the month.
They also tried to rape her, but someone showed up.
They ran away.
Emilina is a soft hearted, soft spoken woman who loves children.
I am so thankful that the Lord sent someone to scare the thugs away before they really hurt her.
I am so sorry that I did not remember to pray for her yesterday.
So please, those of you who pray, please ask the Lord to help heal her heart. To help her deal with the fear and trauma. To help her find a place where she can live safely with her child.
If she moves back with her mom, she will be taken care of. There will be more money to go around, but childcare is a big problem. That is why she left in the first place. Her child was neglected by the people she paid to look after him.
She can't afford a crèche.
I am helping her as much as I can. We have to inform the grant office, we have to get a case number from the police. We have to cancel her cell phone. We have to open a bank account for her, so that she does not have to keep her money in her wallet.
It is a waste of time to go to the police, they won't be able to find the perps.
They are swamped.
Crime and lawlessness in my country is an epidemic, a plague and a cancer. It breaks my heart when good kind people suffer because if it.
May the Lord bless and protect His children in Africa.
Tuesday, July 02, 2013
My Spark Buddy CORTNEY-LEE was blogging about the delightful deliciousness of eating globs of peanut butter, and about keeping portions limited to 1 tablespoon.
That developed into my own PB inclination.
Before my RNY surgery I loved putting a teaspoon of PB in my vanilla Protein Shake. Only I ate a couple of teaspoons before putting that one in my shake.
(Most people need a protein supplement after RNY, we don't absorb that so well)
Very bad idea. I felt nausea, foamy mouth, I vomited a little. (I did not know it was even possible to get food out after RNY) Was white as a sheet, shivering, and sweaty as well as a bit dizzy.
Was that the famous Dumping Syndrome?
For everybody who has an intact GI track. It is when the pouch releases food that has not been digested properly into the small intestine prematurely and the body reacts in alarm to what it perceives as, I suppose, having been 'shot in the gut' when it actually was just the pouch not doing it's part because of the surgery and not life threatening.
The thing is, this is supposed to last for 1-3 days, but my suffering was over in three hours.
What do you think, Sparkies who have pouches instead of stomachs?
Has the pouch police cited me for a diet violation, or was it just 'normal' indigestion?
The pouch police is supposed to get me in the gut when I eat things that are to high in fat, sugar or refined carbs. That is one of the reasons why the surgery works. Negative reinforcement.
Anyway, have a fun day, People!
I am off to do my 5km training and kettlebells at the gym. I tracked it yesterday but had to stay home to look after DD # 1.
Hate taking things off Exercise Tracker, and can't lie to SPARKWORLD.
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