The Triple Threat

The term “Triple Threat” is one that you would normally hear in entertainment circles.

To be a triple threat is to excel at the three main performance areas.

You can sing, dance and act/present!

This is rare and hence why being a triple threat is so impressive.

Well people, I’m here to let you know that today I became a triple threat!

o-LIZA-MINNELLI-CABARET
Just casually being a “Triple Threat”

I can not sing, I can dance drunk and I can act like a clown, but these are not the areas that my skills have been recognised.

Today I learnt that by making a life choice and not really trying, can qualify you as something really special in some industries.

I was told by a complete stranger how incredibly special I was and I didn’t even try.

She didn’t even use the words triple threat, or special, but I could tell from her body and face language.

You know that face where someone is completely overcome with disbelief that they just can’t hide the shock on their face?

That face where their head tilts to the side and they make a kind of scrunched up face. It may look like confusion or pity, but I prefer to think of it as someone being in awe. In awe of what they have just witnessed.

I would just like to clear one thing up as I build the drama here……. today’s event did not include any accidental nudity. If you’ve read previous posts you will know by now that sometimes I don’t fully understand directions and I end up taking off too many clothes. This is more likely to happen at a doctor or laser hair removal clinic, but osteos and physios are not safe either.

By now you are just dying to know where was I when my triple threat talent was discovered!

Back story…………(this information will add context)

About 10 years ago I had laser eye surgery. I wore glasses for distance. I was told at the time that there was the possibility that within 10 -12 years my eye sight may decline and I could need glasses again.

Well doesn’t time fly? It’s been just over 10 years and my eyes were getting a bit irritated and I had a few headaches. I tried some eye drops but they were not working. I had put the changes in vision down to too much screen time and looking at my smaller phone screen more on the train.

Well, no. They were not the reasons. Of course, they can help to make the symptoms worse but they were not causing the issue.

As I sat opposite the optometrist and we discussed my eye sight history, she said;

“I will have a look and see what is happening but unless you’ve had laser eye surgery, are on hormone tablets or are peri-menopausal, then I don’t think there will be an issue.”

Hold up, what?

I have, I am and I am!

I am the laser eyed, hormone controlled, menopausal patient you have been dreaming of!

I am your optometry triple threat.

This is the part where her face was overcome with the shadow of disbelief.

I’m pretty sure she is telling her co-workers about me right now. I am like the urban myth that optometrists will be talking about at their conferences. They will all be wearing novelty glasses, coloured cat-eye contact lenses and chatting about the triple threat.

She even asked for clarification of the hormone tablet I was on just to know I was legit. She didn’t want to make the big announcement in the staffroom and then find out I wasn’t real.

My appointment then continued to find that my right eye is lazy, I bloody knew it, she’s always letting the team down, my left eye is over compensating (now it’s sounding like a bad marriage) and I am lacking moisture in my eyes.

Thanks to those blasted hormones there are a few places on my body that are lacking moisture………

I am now awaiting my 2 pairs for $199 glasses that Alex Perry has so graciously designed for me. I will wear them up on head in thanks.

In case you hadn’t noticed, I am putting a really positive spin on the gradual advancement of the aging process.

I had also had a physio appointment this morning (stayed clothed) and was told that the niggling shoulder pain I’ve been experiencing is most likely due to the gradual rounding of my shoulders. I need to work on my posture and my shoulder placement. I now have to actively concentrate on how my shoulders are positioned. It’s too much.

My body is rounding, hunching, my shoulders are forgetting where to sit, I’m lacking moisture (it hits multiple areas, you’ve been warned), grey hairs are here to stay as they are immune to the powerful laser beam and my hormones are unstable.  Aren’t I a treat?

No! I’m a triple threat and don’t you forget it.

triple threat picture
Off out to lunch with the girls

But I figure, fuck it. I will take my hunching hormonal self to Pilates, I will laugh with my friends, I will dance when and where I feel like it, I will enjoy special moments with family and I will purchase every synthetic lubricant known to woman.

Live your best life.

Lisa XX

 

 

Liza – http://doloresdelargotowers.blogspot.com/2014/03/with-z.html

Old lady -http://bandaidsblog.blogspot.com/2009_11_22_archive.html

 

 

 

 

The Lady with the Big Heart

There is a lady I know whose heart is so big that it sometimes causes her pain.

Not due to any enlarged heart, medical type illness, but because she is so sensitive, giving and open to the feelings of others that her heart sometimes goes into overload.

Over the past few years the ladies’ heart had endured many ups and downs.

The lady had found her place in the world. A place where she felt at home, had found a tribe she connected with and a job to do that left her feeling fulfilled. Her heart was full of happiness and a sense of belonging.  She genuinely loved others and they genuinely loved her back.

The heart knew the lady was happy because the sound of her laughter could fill a room and her connection with those around her was authentic. Some people even loved hearing her so much that they called her “The Voice!”

As life often does, it threw the lady a big curve ball. She had some very big decisions to make. The heart knew that the lady was struggling with these decisions because sometimes it hurt. When the lady was alone and thinking about what she needed to do for her family, little ripples of pain went through her.

Isn’t it unfair sometimes that when we make a decision that will give the best outcome to others, we lose something within ourselves?

The lady was amazing and she put on her happiest face and used her most convincing voice when she spoke to other people, but she couldn’t fool her heart.  The heart was feeling the lady shut down bit by bit.

The lady even started ignoring her heart when it started to feel broken and sad. She made big life changes and tried to see the positive in all situations. The more her heart tried to tell her something, the more the lady shut down and stopped listening.

The heart knew that things would get worse before they got better, so she hung in there and kept beating, knowing with all her might, that the lady would listen to her again one day.

The heart sat back and watched as the lady went through some really hard times. The lady had to step away from using her special gifts, because she knew she was not able to give her energy to others when she needed it all for herself.

The lady tried lots of different things to feel that same sense of connectedness that she had once known, but it was not the same.

The lady knew that something was missing but she didn’t know how to fill the void. She gave so much of herself to others. She welcomed little people into her home, but she knew this was not the answer.

As the lady started to listen to her intuition again, the heart started to feel more alive. The ripples of pain started to lessen and the ripples of happiness returned.

The lady tried again to give life to new beings, but this was not meant to be. The heart knew this was such a shame because the lady was a born nurturer. Maybe as she learnt to nurture herself more her life path would reveal itself.

The lady is braver than she will ever know, more loved than she can imagine and a source of strength to others. The impact she has had on others is immense and she will learn not to underestimate this.

The lady is healing at the moment from an operation, and her heart is healing too. They are both taking the time they need to reflect and ponder.

Never under-estimate the power of a good pondering session. Allow your mind to float gently back over the decisions and directions that have bought you to where you are today. Accept that you can not change anything that has happened in the past, forgive yourself for any situation you wish you would’ve handled differently and most importantly, know that you decide how the future looks.

The lady with the big heart is going to emerge healthier, more grounded and with a stronger sense of self than ever before. She will again listen to her heart and they will work together to be all they need to be.

The big hearted lady will learn to keep a bit of her heart for herself and she will not feel guilty about this. Her need to nurture herself will make her a better nurturer of others.

I love this big hearted lady and I would like nothing more than to be able to take her in my arms and squeeze the absolute shit out of her, but unfortunately I can’t at the moment. As life gets in the way, sometimes we don’t communicate as regularly as I would like, and I will make more effort to rectify this situation.

I want the lady and her big heart to know that they are loved, supported and being sent healing vibes from afar.

Lisa XX

 

I became a new mum, but I didn’t have a baby…

Last weekend I became a new mum.

But I didn’t have a baby!

My youngest daughter, and last child still living at home, left to head overseas for 7 months to perform on cruise ships.

I am so proud and so excited for her, but it hit me hard. Harder than I was expecting.

Yep, my nest is now empty, but it was for half the week anyway. It wasn’t like she was home every night and she was always busy, so I’m used to her not being physically here.

But she was always coming home at some point. Or calling to ask something, or calling to check on me and find our where I was (yes the tables do turn!).

What has hit me is that I am a new mum.

I am not the same mum I was this time last week.

I am now a mum who has raised her kids and they have left home.

Now I feel like someone who is a mother, but not a day to day mum.

I am fully aware that raising strong, independent and courageous women was always the end goal, but that doesn’t mean I am ready.

I feel more unsure of myself right now than I did the day I brought by first baby home from hospital.

I remember placing the capsule in the nursery,  looking at Scott and saying “What now?”  This is exactly how I felt on Sunday.

I held it together at the airport but when I got home to my quieter, cleaner and emptier house, I looked at the same man, 22 years later and whispered through my tears,

“What happens now?”

I feel empty. And yet my life is full.

I feel unsure of my identity. And yet, I have a life where I am Lisa, not Mum.

I feel this ache in my soul for every minute I didn’t appreciate or the minutes I thought I would have more of.

I keep wondering if I did enough. Have I sent them off with enough life skills, memories and advice?

It’s not a logical process, it’s a gut wrenching physical one. I have loved being a mum and I have been bloody good at it.

I have put a lot of thought into who and how I would be when the time came for my nest to empty out, but it didn’t prepare me for the actual event.

I won’t come home and see 16 cups, 10 plates and 9 forks on the sink (not in the dishwasher) and many bodies on the lounges.

I won’t hear arguments and singing from the bathroom, which has taken on a golden glow from the fake tan and bronzing powder.

I will no longer be called on to fetch more toilet paper, settle a dispute over clothing ownership or help with life’s big issues, like wedges or stilettos.

My washing basket will no longer be overflowing, my house will stay cleaner and I will not have to fight for the remote as much.

We will also be able to holiday on the Amalfi Coast in Italy each year with the money we are saving on sanitary products.

It’s actually sounding OK……

I did calm down (much to Scott’s relief) after an hour and a half of really ugly crying. Like U.G.L.Y.! I tried to eat an omelette to distract myself and nearly vomited. You get the picture.

Poor Scott, he probably wanted to have a quiet moment, maybe a tear and reflect on how his life would now be different (in reality, he probably just wanted to get back to his football reporting), but he was really supportive.

He walked at a steady pace around me, not making eye contact, like you would walk around a wild animal when you’re not sure if it’s going to strike. He empty bins, cleaned things and did really random chores.

When my crying had calmed to that hiccup breathing, with moderate sniffing, he approached cautiously.

“Why don’t you do some writing, do something for your blog?” Bless, he was trying to offer a distraction, trying to be positive. Did it work? You be the judge……

“I can’t write my fucking blog because I don’t have a fucking computer. That’s right everyone else has one but Paige just left, Morgan doesn’t live here anymore and you use yours all the time. So, yeah, thanks for that!”

Insert more crying here.

The following sentence proves what an amazing man my husband is and how much he has learnt by living with 3 women for many years,

“Let’s go and buy you a computer”.

The poor bastard would’ve bought a new car, moved house and I think I could’ve milked it for a new puppy.

He was desperate. There was a crazy lady in the kitchen and he wasn’t convinced she was leaving any time soon.

Soooooooo, I’m writing this on my new computer. I may have been distraught but I am not stupid!

Life is getting back into routine. I love FaceTime and I can see that my baby is doing well.

I also have my oldest daughter living about 20 mins away, so I will now put a lot of pressure on her to see me more. I will bribe her with brunch and shopping. I will cry if needed.

I say thank you to the beautiful people in my life who saw through my bullshit façade and knew I would be a wreck. Your support, messages and advice have been invaluable.

To the man who helped fill my nest (sounds weird but I’m going with it) and now gets to share it with me while it’s empty, I thank you. You are my rock and I know the group message we have added you into is confusing and foreign, but you persevere. We will even let you use the thumbs up emoji.

I’m getting used to having more free time. In fact,  I’ve got to go now.

I have Pilates, then I’m getting a mani-pedi,

I had to fit it in today because the life drawing class I’ve signed up for was overlapping with the interpretive dance group I’ve joined. I’m just trying to figure out when I can fit in “Drumming and chanting for sexual growth”.

Oh and of course the house is now empty so Scott and I are nude all the time!

Lisa XX

 

Our baby as she left to take on the world. XX

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Say what you mean.

As we charge head first, at high-speed towards the silliest of seasons, I plead with you all to please read between the lines a little bit this Christmas.

Families, old wounds, alcohol and food comas can be a disastrous mix, resulting in severely crossed lines. Add to that, families that don’t see each other very often and a rug that is filled to overflowing, with the remnants of Christmas past, that have been swept underneath, and you have got the perfect storm.

What I’m asking (begging) you to do this year is to stop and think “What do they really mean?” before you respond in a less than positive way.

For example, you turn up at your mum’s place and you are 20 minutes late. You cop the “Why are you late, everyone’s here, we are waiting on you”. You instantly get your back up, have 3 quick drinks (10.30am) and spend the rest of the day being just a little bit pissed off.

But what if……

When you got the door 20 mins late and your mum had a go at you, you stopped and you thought, “What does she really mean?”

Of course you are actually 20 mins late so she means that. But why is she reacting so badly to something that happens all the time?

What she really means is “I miss you, I’m so happy you’re here and when you are late I worry that you are not as looking forward to seeing me as I am to seeing you”.

If we stop and think before we react our reactions would be very different. You would probably have given your mum a hug, apologised for being late and had a really good day.

Or there is the grandmother who wants to cook her desert that no-one really likes. Let her cook the dessert. What it really means is-

“My mum used to make this for me at Christmas. My childhood memories are fading and this is my way of connecting with her and them.”

Have a spoonful of the desert!

It’s the present your Aunt buys you that would suit a 15 year old. You cringe every year and then throw it away when you get home. What it really means is-

“This present represents the last time I got you something that made you smile and I felt like we really connected.”

Say a gracious thank you and then donate the gift to charity, so your Aunt can make someone smile again.

I have learnt over the years that when people react negatively at first it’s usually fear based. I’ve had to stop myself from doing it with my own kids as they have grown up.

The first time my daughter came home and told me she was travelling overseas on her own, my first reaction was to try to talk her out of it, until she could find someone to travel with. But that was my own fear coming to the surface. I was proud of myself for sharing in her excitement instead and letting her know how brave I thought she was.

As a parent it is sometimes a hard thing to do, to catch yourself before you give a reaction that may bring conversation to a standstill. You want so badly to protect and yet you have to let go.

It’s bloody tough.

My eldest daughter recently moved out of home for the first time. I’ve struggled with gaining a balance between not letting her know how much I will miss her because I don’t want to dampen her experience or expressing all of the emotions at once.

I’m torn between attaching myself to her leg to stop her from walking out the door and packing up her stuff with joy as I envisage my new meditation space.

Being so conflicted made it hard to approach things in a calm and non emotional way so I went with –

“Come over and clean out your old room, it’s a pig stye and I’m sick of this stuff lying around.”

Of course what I really meant was –

“I really need to move forward and embrace the new situation. But when your room looks like you are coming home at any minute it makes me feel like I’m in limbo. Let’s clean out the space together so we can process the changes that are happening.”

She will wake up this Christmas morning in her new place, without us. We are happy for her, but still a bit sad for ourselves.

I will however not be having a go at her for not being at home on Christmas morning. Instead I am taking my own advice (for once) and letting her know that I am proud of her for being independent, I will miss her bed hair and sleepy eyes around the Christmas tree in the morning and she is always welcome to watch Love Actually and drink Bailey’s on Christmas eve.

I’m not perfect and I certainly don’t get it right all of the time but I am gaining a better understanding of the feelings you get when you are no longer the most important part of someone’s life. There is a delicate balancing act going on at all times between your logic and your emotions.

I will be a more understanding towards other people in my life, who may not have the words or be comfortable enough to say them.

Let’s make the effort at this crazy time of the year to say what we mean, in a thoughtful and sensitive way. Easy!!

Lisa XX

 

 

 

What is the dress code? (For an over 40, mother of 2 adult children, who doesn’t want to look like a cat loving spinster or a 17 year old pop singer?)

Cameron Diaz and I are the same age!

Random I know but it will make sense soon.

I want you to picture her and what she wears as a 43 year old woman.

I would describe her style as casual chic.

Jeans, a white shirt or a cute dress. Some nice ballet flats or a heeled boot.

Easy right?

Disclaimer – I am not delusional; although we are the same age we look absolutely nothing alike, except maybe the blonde hair.

**Cameron on the left (just in case!)

Here is my dilemma.

As the mother of 2 daughters in their late teens/early twenties,

“What do I wear?”

I don’t want to look like mutton dressed as lamb but I don’t want to look like I’m ready for the bowls club either.

Apart from being too young for this look, I can never keep white clothes clean.

When the girls and I go shopping we sometimes find that we  like the same clothes.

But who gets precedence?

Who gets to keep the item we both like?

I’ve figured out the way it works in our house.  

They tell me it looks good on me so I buy it and then I never see it because they “borrow” it for 3 years.

They’ve been bloody playing me!

I was so happy for them to tell me I looked fashionable that I didn’t even care.

I was so desperate for compliments from the young and trendy (does anyone say trendy anymore) that I let them convince me  I looked good in clothes just so they could steal them.

To their credit they will also let me know when I look completely hideous and shouldn’t be allowed out of the house.

I recently tried on a top which I thought looked O.K. Didn’t love it but thought I’d see how it looked on.

The top sat a little weird around the bust area but put it down to the old bra I was wearing.

You know the one.  

It’s the bra you can wear when you really want to be in your pyjamas but visitors pop in at the last minute so you feel the need to have a bra and lipstick on.

It doesn’t do any heavy lifting, it just meets a social rule.

As I emerged from the change room my suspicions were confirmed with comments like,

“Oh hey,  great art smock Lisa.”

“Nice mono-boob Lisa.”

Luckily these comments were from the girls and not random strangers.

Top was taken off  and never spoken of again.

I still have the bra though! It’s just too comfortable to get rid of.

I often pray to Cameron (she has become my spiritual guide even though she is still very much alive and has no idea) for advice on choosing clothes.

Can I still show cleavage? And if so how much?

I figure a glimpse of belly button makes it too much.

My legs are good so can I just wear short skirts all the time?  How short is too short?

I do know that if hair removal is required then the skirt is too short.  Der!

Is it still ok to wear my top off the shoulder with my bra strap (good bra) showing? Or will I look like a flashdance tragic?

I can remove my bra without taking my top off. Thanks lady from Flashdance. #lifeskills

Off the shoulder is so in right now, but am I too old?

Or is the fact that I have shoulders like a male triathlete a turn off?

As seen in photo above, I’ve given it a whirl and I bloody love it. I have had pyjamas made “off the shoulder” to maximise on this flattering style.

I tried on a pair of jeans recently and I thought to myself;

“These jeans are so comfortable, I could sit for hours in them without them cutting into my waist”.

What the actual fuck!

Am I 70?

When was the last time I sat for hours?

As I looked at myself in the changeroom mirror I was equal parts shocked and surprised.

These jeans had magical powers but it was an evil form of black magic.

They had taken my arse and magically repositioned it behind my knees.

I am fully aware that I am not blessed with a Kimmy K style backside but I have enough roundness to distinguish my arse from my hamstrings and lower back.

Not in these jeans.

Comfortable denim is a trap to be avoided at all costs.

It will lull you into a false sense of security. You will imagine that this comfort makes you look relaxed and easygoing.

It doesn’t.

It makes you look arse-less and frumpy.

The stretch in the denim will change the shape of the garment within the first ten minutes of wearing it and your body shape will disappear along with it.

I once, unknowingly, made the massive error of wearing junners (jeans & runners).

When the girls saw me, thankfully according to them, before I left the house, they said “No Deal”.

Hanging a boob out and leaving the house would’ve received less of a reaction than wearing Junners.

Why are a pair of straight leg, dark denim jeans paired with some Asics not the same as a pair of 3/4 skinny jeans with a 1950’s inspired white sneaker?

Is this not technically junners?

Who makes the rules and how do I find out about them?

For now I will trust my own instincts and wear what I feel reasonably attractive in and I will be on the lookout for a sign from Cameron.

But trust me if I could, I would still be rocking the shit out of a mid drift top and a pencil skirt.

Lisa XX

For those playing along at home-

Skunners – skirt and runners   Lunners – leggings and runners

Drunners – dress and runners  Shunners – shorts and runners

 

My first bird is leaving the nest

I was reading back through my journal that I have been keeping since I had my children and it is entries like the one below that make me glad I have written consistently over the years.

Today has been a day for reflection.

My first born is moving out. I know as parents we joke about this day and the party we will have when it happens but in reality that’s not quite how it has felt today.

I am beyond proud and excited for her and I know she will be more than ok, but she will be more than ok without me.

I find in our busy lives we have little time for reflection.  With my journal I can reflect at any time and have a fantastic reference book of my own life’s experiences.

I look forward to being able to share these stories with my girls and then with their children. I know I would’ve loved a book filled with stories about me as I was growing up.

I fear that had I not kept this journal my memory would not have served me as well as I would have liked.  This is highlighted for me each week when I forget half of what I need at the supermarket.

09.11.2000

Today Morgan lost her first tooth.

It has been loose for about a week and I can’t believe it lasted as long as it did. 

The tooth fairy has just taken it from the fairy box she had placed it in and replaced it with two dollars. 

Two dollars seems so trivial an amount to place in the box for her tooth.

How can you put a price on the love and growing up and joy we have given and received from her since that tooth first came at the age of 3 months.

The sleepless nights as it formed in her gums, the red cheeks and constant drooling as it decided when to appear and the gorgeous grin with the dot of white when it finally came through.

How has one small piece enamel really made me think about my time mothering and about how fast this precious time is going?

It has been such a big month for Morgan (Not to mention the emotional turmoil for me).

She is into the 3rd week of her orientation program for primary school and she absolutely loves it.  Just to see my first-born going off to school like a little girl ready to face the world makes me want to wrap her in cotton wool like her tooth and put her away for safe keeping.

She is a full head taller than the other kids and she is just so smart that I am proud and sad at the same time.

I am so proud of how she handles situations and how she reacts with the other kids.  I wonder some days if I was that sure of myself at that age, then I remember how painfully shy I was and I am glad of her confidence.

 I try to be supportive of her and yet I just want to protect her forever from the world and anyone who would dare do the wrong thing by her.  If she is at all as worried as me about going she hides it well. 

She is excited by all she is learning as she should be, yet she asked me why the other kids didn’t all talk to her.  I asked her had she made the effort to talk to them and she just looked at me and said no but they should talk to me.

Paige is really going to miss her big sister when she is at school and I think Morgan will miss her too.  She feels so grown up being able to tell Paige all about school. 

I am looking forward though to having some one on one time with Paige and giving her a chance to develop her own personality with out her big sister monitoring her every move.  She is so funny at the moment and we are having some interesting outfit choices as she wants to dress herself more often.

Nana is convinced she has no nice clothes and that everything in her wardrobe is mismatched, but that is just the way she likes it.  She told her kinder teacher she likes to dress like the rainbow.  Who wouldn’t?

I never for one minute thought that being a mother could fill me with so many conflicting emotions, I am so joyously proud and in love with my girls but, like a mother in the jungle should any predator try to get near my young and hurt them, I will tear them limb from limb.

Everything I wrote in 2000 still resonates with me today.

Do yourself a massive favor and keep a journal or just note things down over the years. You will never regret having these memories to look back on.

Go and take on the world my gorgeous girl.

Lisa XX

 

Endings and beginnings

Today feels like the end something and it’s not the weekend.

It feels like the end of a passage of time or the end of a process.

This ending had brought with it a blue kind of day that just felt a little flat and lacking in energy.

I’m not sad, merely tuning into the ebb and flow that I am feeling around me.

What I am focussing on, is that after each ending comes a new beginning.

I am excited to see what this new beginning brings with it.

I will be aware of any changes and on the lookout for any new opportunities.

As I end this day with sleep I am grateful for the chance to reflect, the chance to be present and the opportunity to see what the future brings.

Lisa X