I've Pulled.

The strange world of shoulder anatomy.

Today I woke up with the worst pain in my shoulder. Perhaps, ever. I had plans of getting my butt in gear, going to Stirling and just generally killing myself at the shopping centre (hate those places when they're packed.) Well, my plans were foiled when I woke up with a pulled muscle (seriously hoping that's all it is.)


So instead I spent the day eating an obscene amount of food - honestly. Probably the most food I've ate in one day in a long time, I just couldn't stop opening my mouth and shoving food in. I think I was working on the theory that food usually makes me feel better, it may even give me a rush of endorphin's and help with the natural pain relief. I also intentionally put pressure on my shoulder for a period of time by lying on my back and then sitting forward - to relieve pain. Don't ask me how that works, it just does.


I was really annoyed this morning. Annoyed because I kept thinking to myself, "as if I don't deal with enough pain and knocks to my health, this is just what I needed." I said a silent prayer to myself as I was crippled by the pain and then my shoulder eased a bit - I could barely breathe in and out before this point the pain was so overwhelming. I did feel bad about saying a prayer because I'd fallen asleep while in the middle of my prayer on the Friday night/morning and I had a bit of a cheek asking for help when I'd left God high and dry mid-sentence the night before. 


I was also in so much pain that I had to go back and repeat sentences I'd already said, just to make sure I'd said them. Because in my cloud of pain - oh but it was 'just' a pulled muscle, wasn't it, Bryan? - I was confused and a little bit sick. Thinking about that now I should have been worried, but I was so confused about waking up, not being able to move or take a proper breath that I didn't think of muscle tissue infections or something more sinister. Now I'm just convinced my body freaked out, went into a bit of a panic that I couldn't move, and I developed anxiety over it. I'm positive it's a pulled muscle because when I run the shower head over it? I'm virtually pain free. 


Anyway, I hope I don't get judged on my vain repetitions and God just see's my praying OCD for what it is. And I also hope that Bryan doesn't pull his neck out of place again - despite me walking out of the bedroom, in a big cream puff, and then spitting out to him; "I can't wait until you pull your neck again! Then I can say to you 'oh it's just a pulled muscle.' " 


On top of this I decided it would be smart to take a week off from blogging - not just because of the pulled muscle but because of a combination of many things; one being that I want to focus my energies and efforts into motherhood. I read an important blog post (I can't be bothered to hunt around for the link) about how children don't need fancy smancy crafts as seen on Pinterest, that they don't need 10 different sensory boxes nor does my house need to look like something out of Apartment Therapy in order to state the point that my child needs me. Not a clean house with immaculate floors, a swept kitchen, up to date washing, shiny sparkling dishes in the cupboards and the full works. I also don't need to be blogging when I could be spending time with Roman - although usually I do wait until he's in bed unless I get a few spare moments in the morning to quickly update things.


What my child needs is me. Especially at this age - this age I won't be able to get back again or repair any damage I might do intentionally. My wee boy is a great wee soul, he really is. He's so content about 95% of the time, sleeps through the night (this doesn't equate to the 'great wee soul' comment, it's just a nice bonus I enjoy), always receives praise on his cheerfulness and is generally just full of life. I'm blessed with Roman as my son because goodness knows I was a very, very determined little girl; full of cheeky comebacks, antics and driving people crazy all the time with my cheeky behaviour. 


But this little boy, this content little smiler, he needs me. This blog does not need me, I give it too much of my time and I need a break. I need to sort a few things out with our landlord, I need to sort out the walls in my home (covered in mould!), I need to sort out my eternally messy room and I need time to just belong to me and Roman in the afternoons. I need my son and he needs me - the more time we spend together, the more calm he becomes. His behaviour becomes seriously altered when he is ignored or, shock horror, is left to watch TV for an afternoon. He has started calling out for me in the mornings - when all I've ever known is a daddy's boy. 


So my goal is to work in the mornings meanwhile Bryan cares for Roman and then the afternoon belongs to me and my toddler - and Bryan can work in the afternoon while me and Ro stroll in nature and the shops ;). For that afternoon the TV will be off and if it's on I will talk to him about all the small details of the show and do sign language with him - which he loves. And for that whole afternoon I will not go anywhere near the internet or my laptop. It will be shut off as soon as all my work is complete and I will put an out-of-office reply on emails. 


Afternoons will be made of mess, fun, frolics, connecting with this beautiful country we have the privilege of living in and tapping into things that catch Roman's (and my) interest. 


We've been doing this for a good while now, but lately I feel myself slacking off so that's my plan. I need to be strict because lately my weeks have felt like they drag and as though nothing ever gets completed - mainly house work. 


So here's to the week and that we all enjoy what's ahead of us - and that we remember our children need us and don't care about how successful we are in a career or how wonderful our cupcakes are. They'll remember how we made them feel and the time we spent with them - not the time we spent on Pinterest fooling ourselves we'd make those kick-ass crafts with our kids. Although I do remember the kick-ass crafts me and my mum used to make together.


We were an unstoppable force.

Not Popular. Don't Care.

Me as a fat, fat child. I loved food then and I love it now. I will never be skinny.

I've never been 'popular.' I don't know what it is about me but I am not a people magnet in the least. I'm not like my dad who can be friends with anyone and start a conversation out of the air. I don't have the nice-ness that my mum was born and blessed with - that same magnetism I lack to attract people to me just because they want to be around a nice person. I think I've always seen myself as this person with a steely edge who puts up barriers and borders to stop people getting in. I don't know how that comes off at all. I see myself as a terrible friend even though I feel as though there is a lot I'd do for people - if only I had the energy to do it all.

In high school I didn't have a problem making and keeping friends. At church and in our youth programme I was quite good at making new friends - the only catch there seemed to be that at first people didn't really like me at all, they had to learn to get to know me. To not second guess what was going through my head. So many people have told me things like 'I thought you hated me when I first met.' I think I have this problem, too.

There is also the other problem I have. I meet these amazing people and suddenly I do something (that I usually have no clue about) and they stop speaking to me. I think it's usually because our politics and other values don't match - but honestly, if I don't care, why should you? Trying to keep this blog politics free has been hard for me. It's something I feel very, very strongly about. When I turned 18 I couldn't contain myself about being able to vote - it felt like a bird being let out of a cage. So when there is a conversation going about politics I feel my head shouting to me; "DON'T SAY IT! YOU'LL RUIN ANOTHER FRIENDSHIP!" but then my mouth does other things. I can't help myself and I don't feel I should help myself - other people don't, after all...

But it's that whole 'if everyone jumped off a bridge, would you do it?' scenario. Just because someone is being unkind, mean, hurtful, offensive etc doesn't mean I need to do the same back. And just because someone is hero-worshiping their politician of choice doesn't mean I need to respond to that nonsense or counter it with my own views (hero-worshiping aside because quite frankly there are about zero politicians who are 'hero's' in my eyes.)

So, when I came to blogging with the idea of just writing what was in my head and spilling out my heart (with some censorship, naturally) I honestly didn't think anyone else would read it - least of all people I knew. Mostly I was writing for myself; I needed a space to fill up with my thoughts and impressions. When my mum started reading my blog I think I started to tailor the posts for her a little, then my aunt joined in and so I began to tailor certain posts for her, too. Then other people, strangers, started to read the blog.

I remember the little flutters of excitement I would get when someone would respond to one of my posts - even if what they said was mean, I got excited that someone gave a crap to work up a mean reply ;). But focusing on the good: the majority of replies were positive, encouraging and not just someone looking for a chance to try and network and leave me high and dry otherwise. The comments left me feeling full of respect for people, gave me faith in humans and restored my belief in friendships.

Only a handful of people (who weren't family) have truly reached out to me in life. And it's because the rest of those people didn't see who I was, not truly. I can't speak for why people have helped me and reached out to me but the only answer I can give is that they are lovely, nice people who teach me so much with their kindness. That even if I did give them chronic bitch face, make them think I hated them and was quiet around them they still reached out to me. 

Look I'm never going to be popular, and you know what? I don't care. I thought I knew the future of this blog, but I don't. And: yep, you guessed it, I DON'T CARE! :).

 I'm not sure how I want to be remembered in life but I would like it to be with kindness and love. I don't care if I'm popular or 'liked', because that's not what counts, is it? Having friends is great but it means nothing if you did nothing. 

I wouldn't even care if everyone hated me, because if I knew I was doing my best and my Heavenly Father knows I'm doing my best then that's what counts to me. If I succeed as a mother and do it without complaining too much then that's what counts and matters to me. Having a happy home, a happy relationship and 'good' marriage is what counts and matters to me. Doing my best for those around me, to the best of my abilities - that's what counts, that's what matters.

Having loads of friends and people 'liking' me because I say things that make them happy, make me fit in and make me seem like a better person when I'm not acting on it is false. 

I can only be me, do my best and accept that I will never be her or her. I only have my life to write about and if that's not popular with people or it's not interesting to read, well, people don't have to read it ;). If you don't take the time to get to know someone, how do you know you don't like them?

So I'll keep on doing what I'm doing. I'll continue on despite the trials, the problems, the health issues and I'll keep going; not giving a damn that I'm not popular, but just doing my best.

Blog Design DIY - Make-Over.

This blog has had a make-over.


I liked the 'old' style but it was only ever temporary until I had a spare moment to myself to update to something easier on the eye. I like white, I like to keep things simple and I like my blog as it is. It's not perfect, it's not for everyone and I enjoy my little space on the Internet.


For a while I've been agonizing over the fact that I have 54 followers but then I decided: it's okay. If I was playing to a large audience I am pretty sure there would be massive pressure on me. And having this amount of followers allows me the freedom to actually get to know my readers, to read their blogs, sometimes leave comments and be a part of my readership in a way that a lot of the bigger blogs out there can't physically do.


The purpose of my writing was never intended to be taken to a large audience and I have fulfilled my own wishes. I also believe that if it were meant to be that I was going to have a massive influence or change in people's lives that the opportunity would have already come or is waiting to happen. 


Either way, I'm blessed. No pressure or deadlines are heaped on me and my whole livelihood doesn't rest on my readership, opinions I express or blog posts I share. I can just enjoy my experience. And if I touch a few lives along the way, all the better :).


Anyway, with all that said, I thought I would share my 'how to' on this blog's design. It's fine if you want to pay someone for their design services (and I would encourage you to do so) however if you feel you have the confidence enough to design your own blog I would also encourage this, too. And it needn't cost a penny - just your time.

1. I used Facebook for my picture. I simply uploaded a selection of photos onto Facebook, went to my Timeline (previously known as a 'wall') and pressed the 'print screen' button. On my keyboard that is just above my 'delete' button.

Once I'd pressed print screen I opened up my Windows 7 version of Paint. Once here I selected the 'paste' option which essentially pastes the print screen capture onto the blank canvas in Paint.

Once I'd done this I needed to crop out the section I wanted to use. In this case, it's the above group of photos you see here. 

2. I opened up a blank space beside the image. You can fill this with colour if you please but I preferred to keep mine white simply because I knew the colour of my blog was going to be white :).

Also, it's worth noting that the above image text needs to be re-sized. I'm just impatient. You can adjust the font, size and style to suit whatever design you'd like.

Once you've done this, your header image is complete!

3. Upload to Blogger by clicking on the 'Design' and then 'Layout' menu. Click edit on your 'Header.' Make it 'shrink to fit' and be sure to click on the 'Instead of title and description' option so that your header won't be interrupted by text.

4. Press 'save layout' then view your blog. Voila! A new header, made in your computer, all by yourself :)!

Return of the Blog (And the 366 Project.)

Last week I made an executive decision to take a break. I also wrote a long, rambling and emotional post about childhood illnesses, my paranoia's and list as long as my arm neurosis's. I'm not going to share that, not today, and instead I'm going to tell you I'm back from my break. I'm also going to share why I took the break and I really hope (and know) it will be met with understanding.


I wanted to start off by saying, 'Oh I'm so busy!' (aren't we all?) and while that is very true - and also drains me of time and energy I don't have to spend on blogging - I felt it was an excuse and masking my real reasons for not blogging. Yes I don't want to spend time writing out posts people never read or 'working' on the blog fruitlessly - trying to make 'friends' in the blog world, connect with other bloggers (and UK bloggers are a funny bunch. Every single one I've contacted never gets back to me! Especially Scottish bloggers!)


My problem is simple: I struggle with people. Emotions are tricky for me and over the years words have become tricky for me. Don't get me wrong I can very easily put my point across, I can articulate what it is I want from people...I just struggle to reach out and actually say that part. If it's for my son I have no problem, of course, but for myself I really struggle.


Currently I find myself at a very strange cross roads in my life when it comes to friends. I don't have friends I see regularly and quite honestly I don't believe I have any friends, truth be told. I don't have a friend I can call up for advice, I don't have a friend to go and see movies with and I don't have a friend who is there for me 'just because.' A handful of people do nice things for me, sure, but all of the above things to me are what a friend is. 


Outside of my family I couldn't write a list of 'friends' that I have because I would struggle to name names. I would also be embarrassed to consider someone a close friend and not be considered the same in return.


In school I had a hard time feeling connected to anyone there. I just didn't feel like I had any true friends at all and even now the 'true friends' I did have, I don't have any contact with and barely speak too - and even if I did I would feel as though they didn't really 'get me.' In short, the cliche of growing apart has manifested over the years with my many friendships I had as a child or teenager.


In London I had a great bunch of friends. People who were my true adult friends. But that's the problem, they live in London. When I moved back to Scotland, although we semi kept in touch, I did lose those friends. I know that's part of the deal and part of life, I accept it, but I did find it hard to gel or connect to people here when I moved to an area I'd known previously. 


It was terrifying for me socially because there were a lot of new faces, too. At first it didn't really bother me because I still had some of that sass inside me. Then we moved yet again. This time to another ward. I held a calling for a while but because I was so ill when pregnant - and I'm still working that sickness off and getting back to an even keel these days! - I didn't have time to form friendships or get to know anyone. I felt like all those months cooped up have damaged me socially, that I don't know how to just 'be' with people. 


It was literally me and Bryan. If I went out, it was with him. I didn't have any friends I could call up who'd zoom round to see me (something I got too accustomed with, I'm sure.) I was also going through a hard time with some family members, a settling period and adjustment time for them to get used to Bryan - all is forgiven and forgotten, but I want to put that out there. All in all it was a very lonely time for me. A lot of the time I went over our monthly phone bill - sometimes doubling it - just so I had someone else to talk too. We didn't have a phone line, had no internet (and eventually I had to stop going to the library to use it) and no TV. 


I got very anxious any time people would want to come round to see us and eventually over time got less and less anxious as the missionaries spent time with us. In fact I remember the first time they came round. I was so eager to make a good impression, just so they'd come back, that I don't think I spoke for the whole night. Ha! 


I remember when Roman was born. We were overloaded with people, with noise, with chaos and with life. I was so unbelievably happy at that time. Finally my home was full and my heart was very, very full because this is what I was used too; a tribe of people. Not one or two people but many. A house full. And while I couldn't stand it growing up and daydreamed of my own place, away from the noise, it was what I grew up craving. And in the month or so following Roman's birth it felt like a non-stop party - in a good way. A very reserved, chatty party ;).


I realised that while friendships are to be treasured, maintained and grown what is more important is family. They've been here for 26 years, they're committed to me. And frankly, they can't escape me ;). 


I also want to put in here that someone in that ward/branch reached out to me at a difficult time in my new motherhood journey - in fact many lovely people did. And if you felt pushed away by me at the time, I apologise. It was a strange time for me - I felt I had so much to prove. 


I've been anxious on this blog for some time now. Anxious in the same way I was when I moved into a new area - I saw the groups of people who were already friends, saw the various meet-ups people were having and I felt very pushed out. Not sure where to start or end. Feeling like I'm neck deep in loneliness. It got to the point where if I got a comment from someone I knew I felt let down that the people I didn't know off the blog weren't interested in what I had to say. My so-called followers, for example. But I know how blogging works. You click 'follow' on a blog because it looks cool or because you want someone to follow you back. Or perhaps you just don't have a spare moment to leave a comment. Or maybe you want to read/lurk but not identify yourself.


All of those things are okay but I will say I got swept up in a moment of insecurity. Of not feeling good enough at all. That despite my own mum and aunt being my daily cheerleaders it seemed to matter what a bunch of strangers thought over them. Insanity. The point is very clear to me now and I capture it here because I want to remind myself of this in the future:


I'm here for me, not you. 


This blog, this project and everything else that follows is to entertain those who want to read it. It's a choice to be here, it's a choice to follow me and it's even a choice whether or not you like what I say. But what I write and document in our lives is also my choice and my way. If you don't like it, you don't have to like it. 


I love my readers. And I love comments. I also love to inspire people to do something of their own; to think, to create, to take action. I glory and celebrate when people can do that because I've somehow set off a chain reaction in their brains...but lately I was feeling like all I was doing was dragging myself down. I was wasting my time on a Project that wasn't relevant. Wasn't helping me or others.


All I can say is that if you feel I'm irrelevant, good for you. Feel free to think that. You can also stop reading beyond this point because quite frankly my dears, I don't give a damn what you think :).


For anyone who got beyond that point; of course we're all relevant. Every. Life. Counts. And every way you can demonstrate that and be that example to your children, your families and your friends you should take it with both hands. My personal choice is to document a year in pictures, a promise I made to myself on New Years Eve, 2011. 


I just deal with crippling phases of low self esteem and serious pre-menstrual issues. It doesn't make me a failure, weak or a monster. I'm human, after all. I have flaws and I'm not ashamed to admit them. And I also don't have a clue how to make friends in the 'real world' or in the 'blogging world' but I won't let it defeat my purpose. And pushing that aside for now - because in a week's time I'll be on a maniacal high; full of ideas, inspiration and an over whelming urge to gut every room and organise socks into colour order - I know that things can only get better.


For now, for the next year, I'll be taking a picture every single day. If I need a blog break from time to time I'll take that, too. If I do take a break please refer back to this post and keep gently encouraging me to keep going.


And thank you: for all the comments I got. Thank you for taking the time.

The Internet: Love & Hate.

{Image: Pinterest}

For a while now I have been so careful. Nearly every post I create and share with the world, I think about. I think about the people I implicate, the things I say, the way I say it...I think about it all.

After all, if you share it on the internet it's 'out there' for everyone to see. But I also think that give and take attitude should be considered by the readers of any blog - if you don't like what you see, it's okay to express that, but please think about how you'll go about doing that. As bloggers we really do think about our readership and care about them. But we're people, too. Behind the pictures of our well-dressed children, our posts on how to make pita bread pizza and our computer screens sits a real, flesh and blood human being. With feelings and emotions.

Over the weekend I became quite reflective and spoke about a past relationship I had here. Before I published the post I had to think it through very carefully. Did I want people to know things about me they hadn't known before? At least, not from my mouth. Sure, people can (and will) assume what they like...but I hadn't said the things I did before the post. Ever. Not in person, not over the phone and not even to my mum. I'm pretty sure I hadn't even shared my thoughts with my husband.

A relationship like I had is something I don't think about very often, let alone let off steam or talk about. I don't get the opportunity to talk about it and quite honestly I don't know if I care enough about it to go there all that often. It happened, it ended and I'm over it. I don't know how many ways I can say that, really.

It's just that there are some blog entries I read from other people and I think to myself; 'woah, they're sharing a little close to the bone here.' And although I've had several people email me to congratulate me on my ability to lay myself on the line and shoot from the hip the truth is that I'm actually quite a private person. 

I explained in my previous post that I kept my relationship on the down low. I saw that my friends would get into relationships and suddenly everyone comes rushing in with the advice, the unwarranted remarks and somewhat catty comments. 

I see blogging in the same light. If I don't want someone to criticise me, I better not write that post. Or if I do write a post and someone takes offense/finds something wrong with what I've committed to words then I better make sure I'm ready to deal with it. Whether that's to completely ignore the nonsense or engage with a comment or reply to an email, I better be ready.

There are things I've said on here and there are responses I've had that I've found tough to deal with. I won't specify anything but suffice to say the negatives and the hurtful responses have been to a minimum - I'm either very lucky or very unpopular ;). But the things people spend 30 seconds on writing, they have an impact on us. Whether we admit that openly or not, they hit us in some way. 

Another example of this is when people say stupid things on Facebook. I usually find the people who know me the least say the most hurtful things on-line about me. Ranging from me throwing a tantrum, to me being a horrible person, a bad mother, a brain washer, selfish, judgemental...etc. The list goes on. And on. At first I would retaliate with people and engage their own negativity until one day I realised; those who matter don't mind and those who matter don't mind.

In other words if someone really thinks all of the above about me, they are welcome to think that way. I won't stop them. But I will continue to do what I think is right and live my life. I won't change my values or views just to get a popular vote - I never have and I won't start doing it now.

I remember being 15 years old and being at a very strange party (sorry mum. You never knew about this) where everyone was either drunk or drinking. I couldn't tell you, even to this day, what was strange about the party it was just a certain vibe. I knew I shouldn't have been there. For a start me and my friend had talked around the party and I think I'd even told my parents we'd just be hanging out at my friends place - my friend then told her mum that we'd be hanging out with another friend, I suppose it's the old cliche and not very original at all. 

Anyway...this party was weird. There were plenty of people around to talk too but the lights had been put out and there was a horrible strobe light going off in the corner of the room. The music was too loud and I felt sticky, hot and awkward. It's the sort of situation I would die if I found Roman in it when he's 15 - in fact I'll send him to military school if I ever do!

Like I said, everyone was either drunk or they were drinking booze. Being 15 and Scottish it is not uncommon to be drunk or drinking. But let's remind ourselves that I was LDS, 15 and Scottish so it was a different playing field for me. I refused any drinks for fear of them being spiked with alcohol or drugs. I was polite to everyone and made good friends with one girl there, but apart from that I really didn't want to be there. I don't remember any pressure to drink and anyway I didn't usually cave to peer pressure - I only did things to try them or because I wanted to do it.

I never had a strong urge to experiment with drugs or alcohol - and there was plenty of opportunity in front of me should I wish to. I just wish I could show that part of my personality and my life story to anyone who doubts my strength to say no, my strength to keep doing what's right and my strength to really do all I can within my means.

The point is that back then, at 15 years old, I knew drink and drugs were bad. I didn't want to go down that route because I knew I would only let myself down if I did. I see returning a negative comment back in that same light. I see retaliating and responding (and feeding) negative emotions and actions to be just as destructive as drink and drugs - okay, maybe not in the same way, but definitely in the same vein.

When the party ended I remember the mess of the place. I remember seeing it with the lights on. I remember the words that came out of many people's mouths; "We respect you." 

I want to be the same with blogging and with the negativity on the internet. I want to be free to say what I feel is okay to share - which would only be appropriate to share off line as well as on line - and I want to share my life with people, free of the judgement I've seen being made on other bloggers over the past few days. We should be free to share innocent videos of our kids, free to share what moves and inspires us without fear of what a small minority will respond with.

I can't promise that the bad feeling and comments won't hurt me, because I am sure they will. But I want to hear, 'we respect you, Cara. We respect that you don't hurt us back.' Maybe I'll never hear it, but I will definitely feel it for myself.

And as Bill and Ted say: be excellent to each other.