Parent Groups.

I don't think I'm a group person. I tend to sit amongst a group, quietly listening and internally disagreeing to the people who are speaking. There doesn't seem much point to voice my difference in opinion when everyone else is nodding and agreeing with each other so happily. Who am I to ruin their coffee and cake?

I once went to a 'Parents Coffee Group' ('Parents' meaning 'Mothers'). I sat, I ate a muffin but mostly I just wanted to scream at the two Mums who decided their kids should have free-reign to do whatever they wanted during their 'Coffee Group' time.

One kid kept snatching toys off Trin and pushing the other kids around. Meanwhile his Mum ignored her kid's mean behaviour so she could bitch about the cost of childcare and the upmost importance of professional cupcakes at her children's birthday parties. When we got back to the car I apologised profusely to Trin for taking her to such a horrible place and promised I'd never do it to either of us ever again.

Here is my dilemma: Is there no happy medium between the obsessive, overbearing parent who lives and breaths organic, bio-friendly, trade-fair, dipped in adorable crushed up Angel's wings, Wet Wipes and the uninvolved parent who contently sends their kid to the School Bakesale with store-bought biscuits because they sign a massive cheque once a year to a School with a designer uniform and horse-riding classes?

In all fairness to the parents I just mocked, I think that, that balance is harder to find than any new parent first expects.

Figure 1. Fancy uniforms can't teach classiness.

I Do Not Like It Sam I Am.

I do not like facebook.

It's like this time-sucking black hole where people go to mainly complain. I realise I am at this moment complaining and so quite possibly losing some of my vast amounts of 'street cred'. 

However, now that the damage is done...

Domestication.

I would like a home please. It doesn't have to be fancy, large or even very pretty but I'd like it to be mine/ours. 


Yesterday I realised I've moved seven times in a year. This seems somewhat excessive. Given, there were some unplanned upheavals and I have always been notorious for not staying in one place for very long but I'm getting tired of this to-ing and fro-ing about the place. 


Not to mention the twenty minute history lesson I am forced to give each new lucky Doctor I end up with. 


Time to resurface from debt and save for one of those classy 'Welcome' mats to adorn the family hutch with. 


I have blossomed into a domesticated bitch-face at last. 


Yes Mum, that's what I said.

I'm Geni and I'm...

...a 'recovering' Compulsive Binge Eater. Most of my life I've been completely obsessed by food, by how to get it, how to get more of it and particularly getting more of it without other people noticing.

I used to spend my time at parties socialising, looking 'normal' but with one keen eye on the chip bowl. I'd know how much other people had eaten and had made somewhat of a science of knowing when I could grasp the opportunity to eat more without looking like a pig.

I ended up going to therapy for it, after seeing a Psychologist for a year, once a week I managed to slowly ween myself off my destructive binging behaviour. I'm definitely not 'fixed' though, I still overeat, I still find the balance of eating a completely baffling mystery. I just don't binge anymore.

I've recently been reading about the Western Society's obsession with 'health', food and weight. I realised that for me to be happy in my own skin I'm going to have to stop agreeing with all the negative messages, that means I've stopped putting myself down out-loud and I'm working on shutting the voice up in my head as well.

I'm so sick of the guilt I have with eating. The thing is my guilt isn't exercise, I'm still fat, I'm just fat AND guilty in this current state. I may never be skinny but I'm going to enjoy the things I like, try my best not to overdo it and just cut myself some slack. Being kinder to myself seems like a step in the right direction.