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Healthy January

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I haven’t had a very healthy January.

Between recovering from the big blow that the first Christmas without our baby was and surviving Georgie’s first birthday, I needed a lot of comfort food and  chocolate. I don’t even like chocolate but grief would do that to you. Change you into someone unrecognizable at times.

But I have tried, on my “good days” to choose right.

So when British Lion Eggs asked me to take their health challenge and…eat eggs in the process, I enthusiastically agreed!

I have never been one to worry excessively about my weight, my fat or my sugar intake were never monitored closely so I didn’t know a lot about cholesterol in eggs.

A couple of years ago, after studying about the Paleo diet and the theory behind it, I decided that as a way of living, it was more coherent than most fad diets that would encourage you to eat a restricted group of foods and nutrients, creating havoc in your body.

Now, I was too happy to read that indeed, consumption of eggs does not influence your cholesterol and will not be a cause of dreaded heart diseases or any other major health catastrophes.

So, my January hasn’t been as healthy as it could have been but it has been, on my “good days”, a balanced month, nutritionally wise. I am glad British Eggs approached me regarding this post, researching for it made me realise sometimes keeping healthy is not as complicated as we make it sound.

Eggs and cholesterol_4Disclaimer: we were offered a ProCook Gourmet Non Stick egg poacher as incentive for writing this post. No other payment has been received. The opinions expressed are entirely my own.

 

Team Honk Red Nose Day Danceathon

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Since 2012 I am part of this amazing blogger community.

They have seen me through my lowest points and they have spurred me on to become a writer of grief and joy and the in-betweens.

But bloggers do more than blogging. They change lives through their deliberate acts of support and they do it in the funniest of ways too!

Last year, I followed in awe the dedicated and fun Honk Team in their bloggers’ relay adventure from Lands End to John O’Groats, to raise over £30k for Comic Relief. I pledged I will join in the following year.

And I am! I am joining in the effort of trying to raise £100K as bloggers and as part of the Honk Team!

PART-OF-TEAM-HONK1This year, there will be a six-hour danceathon taking place in the Wembley Arena on Sunday the 8th of March, with over 2000 participants, of which 500 places have been reserved for the amazing Team Honk.

As you know, we lost our precious Georgie last July and ever since, my energy has been at the lowest it has ever been. But Emma and I will support the team from our living room, in colourful tutus and dancing our hearts out for as long as our legs will hold us on the 8th of March. All in the name and the precious memory of our boy, who loves colour and music and jiggling about! Tune in on the day on our Instagram to see us celebrating life in the name of a little bright boy.

My goal is to raise £500 as part of Team Honk for Comic Relief. This sum could help 10 young carers in the UK to benefit from a well-deserved break or could pay for 10 girls, living in a Kenyan slum, to do an apprenticeship and gain vital, life-changing skills and knowledge.

Out of this, Betfair has already pledged £150, so I am aiming at raising, between now and the 8th of March the rest of £350.

If you would like to support our brilliant team of bloggers and give some children in great need a helping hand, here is the Team Honk link where you can do it!

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Thank you and stay tuned for a fun dancing day in March :-)!

P.S.- do check out the sidebar to get a taster!

Reality check

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We have been living a lie, as a community of “believers.”

We have become lazy in challenging the beliefs that are being shoved into us.

We have trusted trends of Christianity and have put miles between us and the Truth.

If we go back in history, church didn’t start from the need of a social club. From the need to “have a group to identify with.” To meet up once or twice a week and be nice to each other over a cup of tea and a lukewarm sermon.

Church started out of pain.

Pain of Jesus on the cross.

Pain of children losing their families to persecution and lions.

Pain of losing social status over following Jesus.

Pain was always in the plan.

This has been my revelation this weekend.

Only the church grew out of pain.

At some point, it actually started causing pain.

Crusades and such.

It never stopped after that.

It took different shapes and it was called different names.

And then, pain and death become associated with punishment, since it had been used as punishment for not belonging.

We explained His death and pain away.

We removed pain from the picture.

We became paranoid with pain.

Anything that is excluded, ignored and unexplained grows into fear.

So, from pain being part of the story, pain became the part of the story we pretended never existed.

Yes, Jesus died IN PAIN but for some ridiculous reason, we decided we should be exempt from pain.

Actually, we twisted the story so much that we became convinced we are entitled to a pain-free existence.

And we then declared a pain-free existence a blessing.

So, here we are, in our own mess.

We have replaced the Blessing, who came to us in the most abject of conditions, lived in humble conditions and died in pain with a Gospel of fake blessings and foolishness.

Church, it’s time to wake up!

Remember what you were called to do and promised as a reward.

You were called to be a blessing and you were promised heaven.

You were not called to “blessings” and promised heaven on earth.

Go back to the beginning.

Acknowledge that pain was always meant to be part of the plan.

And that the only good news is that one day, in Heaven, He will take all our pain away.

This is our reality.

Can we face it or will we resort to recreating parallel realities?

Pain

Reflections (from a five year old)

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Emma loves music, dancing and arts. In consequence, “The sound of Music” gets viewed quite often in our household, many times for days, on repeat :-).

Tonight, she came in the kitchen after she finished watching it and she was full of questions.

She wanted to know why the Von Trapps didn’t stay to pick up their prize in the music competition. When you are five, competitions are exciting, winning is compulsory and refusing a prize is incomprehensible.

How do you explain the Holocaust to a five year old?

I proceeded to tell her about Austria and its honest and decent people. About Hitler and his bad deeds. About some people in Austria refusing what a bad man was trying to make them do and become.

Emma pondered. To my precocious and perspicacious little girl, discriminating against people because of their origin, colour of skin or affiliation seemed aberrant.

The questions became deep. Very deep.

Mummy, who gave this man the power? Who made him a “king”?

I tried to avoid the obvious. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t say God.

But she found the answer herself. And then, she came up with the explanation:

I think, mummy, that God made people to be all good. But some people choose to use their power to be bad.

I could only agree. I sat down. I had to listen to the wisdom of this beautiful little soul.

Why do people become bad, mummy?

Again, I didn’t want to burden her soul. But she knew. Of course she knew.

I think it is because of how their mummies and daddies are with them.

What do you, mean, my love?

When a child is told he is bad, mummy, he becomes bad.

I had to ask more. I needed to know how deep this runs into my little girl. The Truth.

Emma, do you miss Georgie sometimes?

No, mummy. I think of him sometimes. I think of him in Heaven. I imagine him smiling and running around. Playing football. Passing the ball to all these other children there.

Wow.

Just wow.

My girl never heard me talking about the vision I had of Georgie the other week. But my girl knows.

She knows where her brother is.

And she understands the world profoundly.

And she now knows that sometimes, losing what is rightly yours  is better than not doing what is right.

The Sound Of Music

Tonight, I should have…

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Tonight, I should have been busy wrapping presents for my soon-to-be one year old boy.

Tonight, I should have tucked my boy safely in his cot, having rocked him softly to sleep, having caressed his sweet cheeks and having kissed his sleepy eyes.

Tonight, I should have stayed up late making sure the birthday cake is decorated, the cards are bought and the party venue is ready for him.

Tonight, I should have counted my blessings up to two. A girl…and a boy…A gentleman’s family…My dream come true.

Tonight, I should have gone to bed with dreams and hopes for a little boy who will grow into a reliable, loving and gentle young man.

Instead…

Instead, my house is quiet but my heart is in turmoil.

Instead of running after an active nearly-one year old, I stare into empty space, desperate for someone little to fill my arms.

Instead of making future plans, I make survival plans.

Instead of cake and joy and silliness there is pain and loneliness and anger.

995633_10151830218596512_59015378_nMany of you, kind people, have offered to be with us tomorrow, on Georgie’s birthday. But we have chosen to spend it privately and quietly, just like we did his funeral.

But if you feel the need to celebrate Georgie’s life, please take a moment tomorrow and light a candle in his memory.

Write him a few lines and post them here or on his Facebook page.

Draw him a picture.

Buy his a little cake and let your kids blow the candle off, like Emma will with ours.

Donate a few quid to a cancer charity.

Remember him. Don’t let his pain and death be in vain. Don’t let the veil of time fall over the memories and dull them into forgetfulness.

Let your smile shine, just like his did. Let it light this world and make it a tiny bit better. Even for a second.

10364056_10152023112966512_1808747011739674804_nI wish I were wiser and braver, little man.

I wish I were stronger and say that I see the good in what happened to you.

I wish I could be able to be thankful for your short existence instead of resenting God for taking you away from us.

I wish you were here.

Yes, I am sure the cakes in heaven are sweeter, the love is grander and the party is magnificent.

But I would have wished you could see the little cake we bought for you and play with the boy toys you should have received on your first birthday.

You should have had both.

A life here and an eternity there.

I miss you.

Plainly and painfully.