Value added

I recently attended the Global Leadership Summit, but via videocast here at home. There were lots of take-home points for me, but I'll share one with you now.

How can you add value to other people's lives?

I was struck by this simple idea - starting every day by thinking and praying through all the meetings I would have, people whose lives I would touch in some way, and thinking about ways I could add value to their lives. (Obviously, the point is then to act on whatever you have thought about!)

Since then, I have made this our nightly opening question at the dinner table. How did you add value today?

Some days it has been easy to answer. Other days, it has been nigh on impossible to think of how I have added value. Whatever the outcome though, I have found the process of reflection eye-opening. I'm not so good with starting the day with reflection, and planning ways I might add value. That's something I am working on though. However, the nightly reflection is starting to affect my daily routines.

Today, instead of giving up on a particularly difficult student who messed up yet again (which is what my natural inclination was), I found myself able to reflect in the moment on my own behaviour and choose a different response that would be more helpful to the student. I found myself able to engage in conversation that, I hope, added value. For me, that's quite a milestone.

One of the secrets of adding value is that it doesn't have to be focussed on evangelism and eternal destinies. Opening a door for someone, smiling at someone, making someone feel seen or heard or loved or appreciated - these all add value. Of course, the ultimate value we can add is to help others to make the choice to step over the line of faith, so I'm not discounting that;

But I have found such freedom in thinking about how to add value to the cashier, or waiter, or petrol pump attendant I come across during my week. Of course, Bill Hybels talks about this same concept (albeit using different words) in his book 'Walk across the room', which is about personal evangelism. I know that for some people this stuff is 2nd nature, and I know that this is stuff I have known about before, but for some reason, at this stage and season of my life and walk with God, this concept has become totally fresh for me; revelatory, in fact.

So I challenge you - how are you adding value to those around you (not just your friends and family, although you should add value to their lives as well!) on a daily basis? And how can you get better at this?

#NaNoWriMo 2015

OHMYGOSH! OHMYGOSH! OHMYGOSH! I'm a #NaNoWinner2015! I actually wrote 50,000 words in a month... I can't believe it.

What is more amazing, is that my story isn't done yet. A month ago I was worried I wouldn't be able to make it stretch to 50,000 words, and then, as the month went on I found myself wondering how I was going to condense it to 50,000. And then I figured: you know what? I'm just going to write, and not worry about the word count so much. I have been having SO much fun writing - I'd forgotten how much I love writing, and being creative.

Of course, I think my story is very average - possibly quite boring. But that's not the point. I had fun writing it. I AM having fun writing it. I might be rubbish at writing, but now that I'm 40 (oh dear God, help me!) I don't feel the need to succumb to the pressure that I have to be good at something to enjoy doing it.

So who knows... maybe I will start serialising my book here for you to read. If you like it, good for you. If not, I don't care. (Well, I do, just a little.)

And, naturally, it no doubt needs a lot of editing. So maybe I'll ask my English teacher friend who got me into this whole malarkey in the first place to be my editor.... PUNISHMENT! (Good thing she likes Fantasy books!)

But I am on such a high at the moment that I just had to gush and share it with anyone who cares, and several who don't.

It's not so bad!

So I thought it might be good to keep a record of how my writing is progressing, so that if I decide to do this again in a future year, I will be able to look back on this year's experience with something more accurate than memory.

The first few days were great, but then life got in the way. This morning, though, I got up nice and early to try and get some writing done, because the rest of the day is filled with various events. Although I've started both threads of my story, I've mostly been focusing on one of the threads this past week. As I re-read the story I've written so far, I felt the excitement rise - I am LOVING the story! I think I've written it pretty well, so far, but then, I suppose I'm biased. But, what I really loved was that I found myself being sucked straight back into the story. I want to know how it ends, because it's an exciting story. For me, that was a great moment. If I am excited by this story, then hopefully others will be too.

The actual writing though, is hard. I'm not a planner; I'm what's called a pantser - writing by the seat of your pants. As I write, the characters reveal the story to me. I have a broad overview of where I think this story is going, but already I've been surprised as where the characters take me. They're changing the story as we travel along together. But that makes it hard. It's no longer just me thinking about how to say what I want to say - I have to really listen to the characters, and figure out where we're going, and then figure out how best to convey that on paper. My brain isn't used to this type of creative work - it's definitely out of practice.

I've hit my target for today, but it took me two hours. I still have lots of writing to catch up on... 4360 words, in fact! At this rate, I really am going to have to write every day if I want to hit my target by the end of the month.

Swallowed whole by words

This year I am taking the plunge and going to attempt to write a 50 000 word novel in a month, with NaNoWriMo. NaNoWriMo is ostensibly an American institution - National Novel Writing Month - but there are thousands of non-USA folk who join in.

I used to write - poetry, songs, short stories... this blog! - quite a lot, but then, somehow, I stopped. About 2 or 3 weeks ago though, I woke up with a dream still vividly present in my imagination. When it stayed vivid through-out that day, and the next, I decided to commit it to paper... and before I knew what had hit me, I was 4 chapters in! Given that I knew about NaNoWriMo, and that it was so close to November (the month in which NaNo takes place) I decided to give it a bash.

I'm scared nearly witless by this challenge - 50 000 words is 1 667 per day - which is a HECK of a lot of words! And although I have a part of the story mapped out in my head, the majority is still a complete blank for me. I anticipate the beginning will be easy, but I'm nervous about whether I can stick with this... will life get in the way? Will inspiration desert me? Will what I write be any good?

This month holds a lot for me - my birthday, my daughter's birthday, end of year exam marking, planning for 2016, training staff on being a Google Apps school, and now NaNo. Am I completely insane?!? A sucker?!? Given that this year is a big birthday, maybe this is the mid-life crisis everyone talks about?

Whatever it is, if you don't hear from me this month, it's because my energies are being channeled into writing. I am about to be swallowed whole by words - and I think I'm going to love it! I have added a widget here though, to keep track of my words, so you can see how I'm doing. All encouragement will be gladly accepted!

The murder of a child

I usually finish every book I start. Some weird compulsion thing I have. Tonight, after getting half way through a book, I skipped to the end, and then did not go back to read the rest. Why? In part, because the book was not what I was expecting, but more because it was an account of pure evil. 

After several disturbing scenes involving abuse of various types, when I reached the scene in which a child had been murdered, I found I could not go on. The child's murder was not detailed, but the murderer then kills his mother. What got me was that just as the murderer starts in on her, she sees part of her child's body, and realises the child has been killed. I couldn't read any further. 

I know it's just a story, but I also know that this kind of evil exists in our world. I know it happens, but I can't understand the kind of evil that would murder a child in revenge, nor can I understand the author who can conjure up and give life to this kind of evil. 

Of course, I assume that it was easy for the author to write this story. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe the author really struggled, maybe it was written in the midst of constant tears. 

But as I pit the book down, having satisfied myself that at least the story sees some justice in the end (even if I know that that's a Hollywood ending, and that in real life, most times there is no justice on this side of heaven), I felt almost physically sick at the way my one felt violated. 

I couldn't go to sleep with that junk knocking around in my brain, as otherwise I would have nightmares. I've recently been having a bit of insomnia coupled with middle of the night paranoia (we have a mouse or rat or squirrel or something that seems to have taken up residence in the ceiling again), so I don't need to add nightmares to that mix.

So, I turned to my Lent Bible reading devotions. All of today's readings were on holiness. What is holiness? Who is holy? What does holiness look like in this day and age? I know it's Lent, and that holiness is a major theme, but I don't believe that it's coincidence that it was the theme being explore today. 

I was reminded of Phillipians 4:8 Finally  brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think on such things.

Let's hope that as I fall asleep tonight, my thoughts will be drawn to holiness, not to thinking about the murder of a child.

Adult bed time story (warning: PG 18L)

I know I've blogged about this before, but it needs saying again.

This evening, while trying to get our kids to sleep so that the adults could get on with playing their games, I was reminded of the adult bed time story 'Go the fuck to sleep'. You can read the text on http://poetry.rapgenius.com/adam-mansbach-go-the-fuck-to-sleep-lyrics.

Every time I read the lyrics I can so clearly recall the hours and hours I have spent feeling exactly those sentiments with at least #1 (not so much with #2) who, in her younger years, simply would not. I wept with laughter when reading it again this evening. 

Yes, it uses the swear words and so, theoretically, is not very Christian, but I'm afraid that sometimes you can't express the gut emotion without using swear words. I confess that there are times when i think swearing is funny. This is one of them. If that offends you, then I'm sorry. If that makes you think less of me, then I'm sorry. In that case, can we just agree to disagree?

I love the sense of the rising ire, the exhausted defeat, then elated triumph, then despairing defeat. That roller-coaster is so true to life, to my own experiences when I was a new parent battling to work out how to get my kid to JUST. GO. TO. SLEEP.

So, if you have kids, and have battled at one point or another to get them to sleep, go and read this. Bookmark it, and return to it every now and then when you need the reminder that:

you are not alone 

this is a common problem

Gina Ford/ Dr. Spock / whoever the latest guru is does not have all the answers

the Pinterest/ yummy mummies with the perfect kids aren't the only valid experience of parenting

it is better to laugh at yourself than weep at your predicament

life goes on

and, that this too shall pass.

You owe it to yourself to get real.

Something to cheer the soul

There's a series of books called "Chicken soup for...". They are inspirational stories aimed at different niches.  I love them because they really do lift the spirit. After becoming intimate friends with my toilet bowl over the past 24 hours (I blame the leftover stew that I didn't reheat properly on Monday) I was in dire need of some upliftment.

So, herewith - my own brand of inspiration: hearts. Hearts are all around us, apparently, and as I pondered the images I found, I got to wondering whether it's "just a coincidence" or whether the God of love has deliberately set before us multiple images of his heart for us.

I like to think that it's the latter.

Maybe there's a science behind the shape, as with fractals, that explains why this shape seems to occur so frequently in nature. If anyone knows of a good scientific reason, please do share it, as I'd be really interested.

The following are images I just collected from Google Images. Apologies to the photographers for 'stealing' their work, but hopefully the aim is for others to appreciate your work.

The sky is everywhere

When I read a book, I often can't put it down. Once I start, I want to just immerse myself in it until it's finished. Then there are books that change your life. Then there are books that could change your life, but you' re just too tired, or scared, to finish.

This book is none of those. Initially I didn't want to read it because the main character is deep in grief, having just lost her sister. Once I started though, I couldn't put it down. But more than that, I found myself reading the most incredible story of someone coming to terms with her grief. It was such a heart-warming story, and so healing to read.

I still sobbed my heart out at the end, thinking about all that Zoe will never know, or experience, our share in our lives.

What I loved most tho, in this story was the way that the author was able to express the effect that a deep grief has on the way you view life forever after. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about losing someone else I love: my other kids, my best friend and husband, my parents... I know some would say that's morbid. Well, it is, but it's also so realistic, so NORMAL. Death is inevitable, it is a part of life and I think we do ourselves a disservice to pretend otherwise, or to live with our heads in the sand.

This story manages to make that point without bring too moribund about it.

This is a book I'm glad I bought. It's money well spent, and I would highly recommend this to anyone.

Outliers - book review

Yup - I've been reading a lot just recently. That's what happens when the matrics are writing exams, my classes have all finished their syllabi (syllabuses??) and I therefore have lots of time at work to do my prep for next year (so don't have to take work home with me).

I've just finished a book recommended to me back in 2008 or 2009 (I can't remember). 'Outliers' by Malcolm Gladwell (author of 'Blink' and 'Tipping Point'), takes a good long, hard, look at what makes some people outliers - that is, so exceptional they stand well beyond the rest of us. What he discovers is shocking. Being an outlier has very little to do with talent, aptitude or genetic giftedness. Very, very little.

If Gladwell is correct in his conclusion (which you'll have to read cos I'm not going to spoil it for the rest of you) then it has MASSIVE implications for the way we do education and school sport. (That means it also has implications for the way G and I raise Janel - not necessarily to turn her into an outlier, but just to help her reach her potential.) It also has implications for the way that government needs to intervene in societal structures.

If this country is going to go from good to great, then the govt needs to hear what Gladwell is saying and implement it. There firstly needs to be an understanding of where we are as a nation - what apartheid has done to the national psyche - without any pandering to political correctness. Then it needs to change the educational structures that prevent children from reaching their potential. It doesn't mean more money needs to be ploughed into the system - it means that the MANNER in which money is spent needs to change.

If you want your worldview challenged, if you want to know how to raise your kids to give them the best chance of succeeding in life, if you want to know how to help change society for the better, then this is definitely the book for you!

Turn a blind eye?

I love reading. I love nothing more than to pick up a book in the morning, preferably staying in bed, and immerse myself in it until (at some ungodly hour later that day) I finish it. (Yes, I read pretty quickly.) I love Sci-Fi, fantasy, murder mysteries, and chick lit. I'll read a good biography or autobiography if it's been recommended to me. I will also read a good science related book - like 'Short History of Nearly Everything'. (WHAT a great book that is!!) I love reading Time mag, and local newspapers because I love knowing what is going on in my world - it's the infernal gossip in me.

I don't like horror or psychological thrillers much. I used to. I used to LOVE reading Dean Koontz. But there's only so much a girl can take after being unable to go to sleep at 3am after being scared witless by a book. My imagination is FAR too productive.

Since losing Zoe, there are other books I simply will not read: those that involve any story about children being harmed in any way - from the impact of divorce to child abuse. I find them just too painful to read. I can't understand how ANYONE would harm a child, especially since I would give my right arm to have my daughter back and these characters seem to treat their kids with such blatant disregard. I usually screen my books quite carefully now, to make sure there's nothing of that sort.

Last week, I was in a rush. I dashed into the library to grab some books before dashing home to feed Nathan. I didn't really look too closely. I picked up a Ruth Rendell - usually love her stories as there's enough predictability mixed with some really unexpected twists - called 'Not in the flesh'. On balance, it's a great story. However, there is a sub-plot that even now makes me shudder.

Female genital mutilation.

In Africa, especially northern Africa, the practice is quite widespread. Essentially, while a girl is still a small child she will be held down, with no anaesthetic, while some woman in the tribe uses either a knife or sharpened stone to cut off her labia and clitoris. She will then stitch the wound closed in such a way that the girl will never be able to urinate or have sex without extreme pain. She will then bind the girl's legs together for a period of time (usually a week or so), during which time, infection often sets in because the wound is not being properly cleaned.

In the story, Wexford (the main character, a police detective) is faced with a dilemma. He knows that a Somalian family are going to 'cut' their 5yr old daughter in the very near future. What should he do? The practice is illegal in the UK, where the story is set, but until the act is actually committed, there is no crime. He cannot arrest the parents. Child welfare can do nothing, because no crime has been committed. He warns the parents of the jail term they will face if they do, but there's not much else he can do.

Eventually, he & some other important characters manage to burst in as the mutilation is about to take place. The end result is that the 5yr old is removed into care, while her older brother and sister remain with the parents.

Reading the story has left me unsettled. What would I do? Is it worse for the child to be taken away from her parents forever, or to suffer mutilation? Is there no compromise? As with circumcision in SA, many young boys lose their lives because of infections from their time in the bush. A compromise is to allow a registered doctor to perform the circumcision, so that at least one knows the wound has less chance of becoming infected. While I COMPLETELY disagree with female mutilation, is there no way to reach a compromise? Is there no way to respect their culture while not harming their daughters?

Just the thought of what those girls go through is enough to make me mad and howl with the injustice of it all. On the one hand, I bet they simply don't know any better. On the other, how can a woman who has gone through that inflict it on her daughter? Surely there must be some inner plumb line that tells her it's just wrong? or is the imperative to uphold tradition stronger than that internal voice of conscience?

I know that there are different parenting strategies out there. I know that some people would be HORRIFIED to learn that I smack my child on her bum (once, open hand, only as a last resort) when she is being completely atrocious. I believe that I'm doing the right thing. But there is a world of difference, surely, between that and what these mothers and aunts and sisters are doing to these girls.

There's not much I can do sitting at the tip of Africa, as I don't have money or time to give to the cause, and I'm living in a part of the world where (I imagine) it doesn't happen very much. Besides, there are lots of other more urgent problems facing the people immediately around me - like substance abuse leading to fetal alcohol syndrome, or babies on crack, or (the latest trend) newborn babies being abandoned by the side of the road because of financial (and other) constraints.

Does that mean I can ignore it? I don't know. One only has so much energy and time to spread between the different problems facing one. Yet, I feel like I'd be letting these girls down if I did just shrug my shoulders and say 'There's nothing I can do about it'. It's kind of a rock and hard place scenario.

Damn! I should have checked the book more carefully before I took it out!

'The Last Supper'

Being sick only has one advantage - one has to lie still in bed for hours on end. This means that, in order to avoid complete boredom, one must either read a book, watch TV or listen to radio. My preference is reading.

I haven't read a book cover to cover like I did today for far too long. It was glorious, and a wonderfully guilty pleasure. Of course, I have piles of marking to do, and should probably have done it, but I think the break from routine has been delicious.

What did I read? An interesting book. There has been a lot of speculation about Leonardo da Vinci's painting 'The Last Supper', not least because of the way that Dan Brown has used it in his book 'The Da Vinci Code'. The novel I read today, 'The Secret Supper' by Javier Sierra, is another in the same line. It seeks to pin Leonardo as a Catharist.

Catharism, I learnt today, is an heretical Christian cult of the 11th and 12th centuries. Very similar to Gnosticism, the followers of this cult mostly believed in a dualism of nature - that the earth was created by an evil god (the God of the Old Testament) and that real enlightenment comes by believing in the true God, who is a being of light, of whom Jesus was a messenger. They rejected the crucifixion, and abhorred anything to do with copulation (as it was seen to trap you in the earthly, evil world). As a result, they were celibate (the 'priests' were the only ones who had to abide by this - no doubt because otherwise their cult would have died out in one generation!), and ate nothing that was the product of copulation - no eggs, no dairy, no meat. Fish was tolerated only because fish were thought not to copulate to produce offspring. They also refused to take any vows (including marriage) and lived lives of humility. All possessions were given to the community, so that they would not be enslaved in this world by material things.

They also held some rather odd beliefs about Mary Magdalene (e.g. that she hid Jesus' body after he revealed himself to her in his body of light following his burial), and the church in general. Consequently, they believed that the only sacrament possible was a 'consolamentum' in which some say the Gospel of John was placed upon the head, and the spirit/ content thereof baptised, absolved & ordained all those who received it.

Anyway, poor Leonardo is once again roped in to provide a background for telling a story of one poor inquisitor monk's role in rooting out an evil and finding a murderer. The story itself is gripping - full of little puzzles and riddles to tempt anyone with more brain power than poor, sick me - and the conclusion is certainly a fitting one for the way the story has been woven together. Certainly, there is a plausibility to the story - the author has done his research (although I wish the same could be said for Dan Brown) - and the author has worked very hard at making it so. As with all conspiracy theory stories, one is left feeling a bit deflated by the whole thing. However, one thing the blurb does get right - you will never look at 'The Last Supper' in the same light again. It is impossible now to look at the painting and not think about Catharism, whether or not Leonardo was secretly a member of the cult or not.

The Shack

A few months back, our minister highly recommended a book to us, called 'The Shack', by William P Young. He said he was sure that it would be as important to our generation as 'Pilgrim's Progress' was to its generation. Well, I finally bought a copy, and amidst many tears, read it in one sitting. What a book!

It's a really tough book to read in many respects. The author is a ghost writer. He writes about one of his best friends and his pain of losing his daughter. It's a true story - or at least, it purports to be so.

This friend takes 3 of his 5 kids camping. Just before returning home after a fantastic trip, 2 go for a canoe. They get into trouble, and one nearly drowns. While he wades in to save them (he's trained as a life saver), the 3rd (his youngest daughter) is left on the shore. After several minutes, when the father returns to shore, with his half-drowned son, he discovers that his daughter is missing. After a search of several hours, involving all the local law enforcement and camping site staff, he discovers, to his horror, that she has been kidnapped by a serial child murderer. This serial killer has already killed 4 children. Thus far, the police have never found the bodies of the little girls taken, but the killer uses the same MO every time. All they find of this little girl is her dress, covered in blood.

You can imagine the father's pain, and the pain the whole family goes through. For me, as a parent, and particularly as a parent who has lost a child, it was incredibly difficult to read. It brought back so many memories for me... not least that first moment when you realise that no matter what you do, your child will never, ever be coming back. But for him there was the added pain of knowing that his child suffered, and was probably terrified throughout her last moments. But this tragedy is only the first third of the book. What follows is his journey through grief to healing. Essentially, this story addresses the question of pain - where is God when bad things happen to good people? Why does he allow it? Can God be all-loving and all-powerful at the same time?

The man describes how 'The Great Sadness' settled over his life. His faith took a severe downward turn as his anger towards God surfaced. His other daughter became increasingly withdrawn. His family started to fall apart. Then he receives an unusual letter in the post, with a very unusual request. This letter represents a major turning point in his life. I won't spoil it for you. You need to read it. It's an incredible story.

All I will say is that, for someone like me, who's faith has taken a very difficult turn as a result of several major losses in a row, this book has given me hope in a way that nothing else has. I don't know how true it is, although it claims to be a true story. It's certainly not beyond the realm of possibility when you're dealing with God... I want it to be true, because if it is, then that means all kinds of possibilities exist for me, for Graeme, for our family, for our lives together. Whether it is or not, though, I think it's still well worth a read. If nothing else, the question it addresses and the answers it gives are things that every person in the world needs to hear.

I still have a lot of processing to do, and then a lifetime of trying to put the stuff I've learnt into practice. But I think this book has made a huge difference to me. I highly recommend it to you, and I hope it has as profound an effect on your life.

Memorials

As Monday draws nearer, I find myself becoming more apprehensive. I realised tonight that I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be feeling. I miss Zoe, and I always will, but I'm not as broken-hearted as I was. Yet, at the same time, the thought of scattering her ashes makes me sweat... part of me never wants to let go of them, but part of me recognises that in order to get more closure I have to let go.

Sigh!

So we've decided to take Monday morning off on our own to walk and reflect, and then do a little scattering ceremony where we plant an Indigophora with the family later in the afternoon. That way, we get to do both - grieve in private and with family. Both are important, I think. I just hope it doesn't feel artificial and weird.

I can't remember how much I've mentioned about Born Sleeping - the group that Graeme and I have started here in SA. After months of near-silence, suddenly over the past week or so we've had several emails. Tonight we had an email from a researcher. Apparently a well-known SA author is writing about her experience of stillbirth, and the researcher is putting together a list of resources for her.

Hmm.... part of me is jealous, because I really want to write about my experience, but have neither the time nor the money to spend on that project. Part of me is thrilled that someone is writing about it again in SA. Tertia Loebenberg (columnist for the Times) wrote about her experience a while back (was it only last year that her book was published?), but it's always good to keep this story in the public eye, as it were.

Anyway, I am getting really excited by the increase in email traffic we've had. I really hope this signals the start of something, rather than just being a blip on the radar.

Hectic week

For those who haven't yet subscribed to the blog and so have to check back frequently to see whether I've updated.... I'm really sorry that blogging seems to be taking a back seat. Packing and setting up the business while trying to entertain Nellie is proving time consuming.

Father's day... we had a fabulous day. We went down to Graeme's cousin/ aunt, where his folks are staying. Despite Nellie not sleeping all day (bar 30 minutes and then another 45 mins crying about sleep), we had a lovely day. She played in the fountain and we sat in the sun, had a braai, talked, laughed and generally enjoyed ourselves. It was a really lovely day.

So - Monday I had Nellie at home with me because Ashley, her childminder, got the vomiting bug. She had my sympathies - it was a nasty bug!! So on Tuesday I decided to take Nellie out. We went to lunch at Graeme's brother-in-law's sister's husband's new restaurant (did you follow that family link??) - called org-e (here's a review), in Covent Garden. It was great - although there were one or two hiccups in our service. The food was really good.

Anyway, after that I took Nellie to see the horses on guard at Horse Guards, and then to St. James' park to the playground there. While we were there, the marching band at the Guard Museum were practicing, so we went across to watch them. When they went on a break, we went back to the playground. As soon as they started playing again, Nellie made the sign for music. It was so cute!

Today has been spent doing moving stuff. I cleared out my closets and sorted through our paperwork (although I still have 2 boxes to go through - school stuff and business stuff). I can't believe how long it took me... but at least it's done. I gave 2 large bags of clothes to the Salvation Army at the end of our road, and I have 1 large bag of paper to be recycled, plus a shopping bag's worth to be shredded, and a whole bunch of files to get rid of.

In between all of this, in the evenings I've been working on the business website and dealing with queries from women who read my article in Urban Mamas (an e-zine for South African women focusing on pregnancy and babies), in which I mention that I'm starting up in July. It's been great exposure, and a real incentive to get the business up and running and SELLING. It's also shown me that there is a real market for home grown products, so I also need to focus on getting my own design manufactured..... aahhhh! So much to do. So little time.

I'm not sure how it will all work now that I've got this temp. job teaching. But I'm sure it will. The other good work news is that Graeme most probably has some temporary part-time work for his current job, working online to help support the new HoD! How cool is that?!?! Details still have to be finalised, but in theory it's all happening. God is so good!!

Oh yes, and of course, I've also been spending time on my latest hobby.... Facebook. Very addictive... very, very addictive.

The down side of all this activity is that I haven't really had time to grieve Zoe. And I feel guilty about that. I feel like I shouldn't be able to be getting on with my life this well without her. And yet I am. 3 months hardly seems like enough time to 'get over' something like this... yet a lot of the time I feel very blessed and happy. So I'm a bit mixed up about it all.

I do miss her, and I think about her a lot - mostly I think about what might have been... what she'd be doing now... how big she'd be... how Nellie would be relating to her... what sort of routine we'd have settled into as a family.... I guess that, if I'm honest, I'm allowing these other activities to creep in to keep the pain at bay. Last night G and I went to the pub for a drink with our growth group (after doing some other stuff) and when we were the last ones left, we started talking about Zoe. It didn't take long for the tears to start. So I know the pain is still there. Maybe it always will be. Maybe this is just how life will be from now on.

Several friends who started reading the blog around the time of Zoe's death have recently commented to me that I should write a book because they think I write so well. I've been thinking about writing one for a long time now - about the loss of a child in a particular. Maybe this is the push I need to start thinking about it seriously. (Though it will have to wait a year or so, I think, with the number of other 'new' things on the go at the moment.) Maybe this is something else I can do in Zoe's memory.

I got in touch with an ex-boyfriend from WAY back when, through Facebook, whom I'd lost contact with. Turns out he and his wife are 34 weeks pregnant with their 2nd. I told him about losing Zoe at 37 weeks before I knew that. Gave him a bit of a scare I think. Part of me regrets opening my mouth, part of me is glad because I wish someone had made me realise how precious every moment of a pregnancy is and how much each moment should be treasured because you never know when it will be taken from you. I'm really not sure what to expect though, in terms of telling people back home. Many people, whom I would classify as acquaintances, don't know about Zoe. I really don't know how I'm going to broach the subject, because I want them to know about her... Sorry, I know I've said all this before. My brain is going round in circles, trying to find a solution. I'll stop rambling now.

Only 16 more sleeps till we fly!

PS. If you like my blog, why not sign up for Blogger Awards and nominate me. It's free and it's a cool way to see what's hot in the blogosphere. http://www.bloggerschoiceawards.com.

The Knack of Life - Trisha Rainsford

"Mattie had the knack of life. While he was alive he knew how to be alive and keep his heart open even when it was broken. If I had to say what he did I suppose I'd say that instead of shrinking and closing off to the world, Mattie made his heart bigger every time it was attacked so that, eventually, it became like an enormous expase of water - an ocean, maybe - which couldn't be polluted by the insignificant drops of poison the world threw at it.

.... I think I'll try that."

Silly stuff

Because I now spend an inordinate amount of time online every day reading other people's blogs (basically ostriching) and the SANDS message boards (getting grief support), I'm really starting to get into the blogging/ posting thing in a BIG way.

Just how big? Well, so big I've actually signed up to a website that tells me how many people visit this blog, and ranks my blog. Sad, but true! What's even sadder though, is that I'm really excited to report that my ranking has improved dramatically.

Yes, when I signed up at Amatomu, this blog was #263. This morning it is #103! I've had 102 people visit my blog in about 10 days. Frankly, I find that rather incredible - that there are that number of people who actually want to read my ramblings! Especially given that I don't comment on world events (except occasionally) and that my ramblings are all focussed on people they've never met. Bizarre!

But then, I enjoy reading my favourite blogs - and I've never met some of these people either. I've mostly stumbled onto their blogs because we have something in common, but not always. So maybe I shouldn't be so surprised.

The other news of the morning is that there's a report on the news regarding the latest stats on stillbirth. Apparently, in England, Scotland and Wales, the stillbirth rate is now 1 in 200, of which half are unexplained. I couldn't tell from the news report though whether that stat includes miscarriages and neonatal deaths, or if it's just perinatal deaths like ours - which might explain why it look better than the stats I've previously reported. Then again, I think the stats I reported (which do include neonatals and miscarriages I think) are for the whole of the UK.... That's the problem with stats - they are SO easy to misrepresent and can be so misleading unless you have all the facts to hand (which you seldom do because the papers seldom report all the 'boring' details that really help you to interpret them... Anyway, 1 in 200 is still pretty high.

The amount of information given to pregnant women about the possibility of: miscarriage AFTER 12 weeks/ stillbirth/ neonatal death is WOEFULLY inadequate. The good news to report though is that Miriam Stoppard (author of an excellent pregnancy book called 'Conception, Pregnancy and Birth'!) has agreed to re-write her section on stillbirths for the next edition of her book. This after one of the mums on the SANDS forum wrote to her expressing the view that so many of us have about the lack of information. Good for both of these amazing women - the first for actually getting off her butt and trying to make a difference for other women (unlike me who just complains about it all the time), the second for being brave enough to listen and change her book. Makes me proud to be a woman and a mother!

Progress report

Well, after all that, it isn't chickenpox after all - just a viral infection that has a rash and blisters associated with it. How frustrating!

However, we've put the time at home to good use, learning to blow a whistle!! Yes, little Nellie can now blow a whistle (not loudly, but you can hear it). So cute!

She's also got a favourite book now - one about a bunch of birthday presents - which has flaps you lift up to reveal the present item. One of them shows a ball (bouncy ball). Whenever we get to that page now, she starts "bouncing", and even if you just say 'bouncy ball' she will start to bounce.

One of her presents was a little car that she sits on and pushes with her feet. We haven't got that far yet - she's too uncertain about it all - but as it has a handle at the back, she is very happy pushing that around the room. She's even learnt how to start to turn it round when she gets up against wall.

Right now I'm baking her a cake (my first attempt in YEARS) which I'm hoping to shape and ice as a big number 1. Not very original, I know, but fun never the less. Although her party was cancelled, a few people have still managed to arrange to come over for lunch or tea, so that will be nice (assuming she isn't asleep or crying!)