Tonight after dinner I had the great inspiration to cook some cakes, only to find there were no eggs. End of the world! It didn’t even register to me that there were ways to get around that (thankyou Fiona for reminding me).
So instead, there is now a pastry cooking away in the oven. Hoping it turns out alright, we don’t even have any ice cream or anything to put with it. Shopping doesn’t always manage to take enough of a priority at the moment it seems!
While waiting, just hanging out in the kitchen avoiding all the things I ‘should’ be doing (yes yes, I am well aware ‘should’ is a swear word), I realised that I only cook when in a reasonably fit mental state. Crazy food experiments that don’t always work out, or just baking a packet cake – there is zero interest in doing that when having a crappy day. I eat (too much) and cook (what is required) but there is no joy in it.
Cooking is such a natural pleasure for me and I am so happy to say that I am enjoying it just about all the time now. Making real food for the kids instead of slapping up something ready-made and knowing how much better it is just makes me smile.
I have always been of the opinion that there is little more important than the way we express ourselves through our use of language. Often I find myself severely lacking when it comes to the spoken word, stumbling over the simplest of statements even when I have an intricate knowledge of the topic. A few years ago, if you asked me to write an essay I could knock out a thousand words for you without stopping for coffee, but don’t ask me to present a five-minute speech. That would be a disaster in the making.
And I am somehow even more awkward when it comes to small talk.
I just suck at social interactions. I can feign interest in the most inane chatter and make the right comments or gestures at the right time, but for the love of god don’t ask me questions about myself or my life in return. I don’t like talking about myself. Of course, I will answer politely, and try not to bring the conversation to a grinding halt that means we have to sit in uncomfortable silence or pretend to check things on our phones. But I hardly see the value in talking just for the sake of talking.
In recent times there is most definitely a reason for it, as sitting back and listening to whatever anyone else is spouting rather than getting involved in genuine conversation creates so much less anxiety. But now that I’m finally feeling a bit more human and alive again, I want to enjoy my life and have meaningful contact with the outside world.
So tomorrow morning (all going well and as long as the kids sleep tonight), we are off to playgroup. The coordinator made it very clear that I don’t have to feel obliged to attend again if I find it unbearable, so goddamn I am going to give it a go. This will be our first time. I hope we all enjoy it and Liam and Ezri no longer have to miss out on things like this just because their mother struggles in social situations.
Excuse my babble, I just read it and there is no flow to it at all. Too tired, will try again tomorrow.
While I have been reluctant, my sister has been insistent. And she has finally won the battle.
I think it will be a positive thing, but I think I will need a bit of a shift in thinking to really wrap my head around ‘really’ being online, as opposed to just messing about on Facebook.
So, what am I doing here? I feel a bit like I should be writing a mission statement!
My name is Jennie, I am 27 and have two children, Liam (2 years 8 months) and Ezri (9 months).
My wonderful son Liam has a rare genetic condition called Spondylmetaphyseal Dysplasia. It’s one of those one-in-a-million type of things. Very little seems to be known about it, and it feels like even less information is available to the public. So what I am hoping is to be able to share what we can about Liam, his condition, and our lives, and maybe even find someone else in some other corner of the world who knows what I am on about!
We’re still trying to get some kind of understanding about what this really means for Liam, and ensure we support him in every way we can.
And I hope you’ll join us for the experience.