Dear Hay House, I’m Appalled.

Dear Hay House,

I’m writing in regards to your self-publishing branch known as ‘Balboa Press.’ It has come to my attention that you provide packages for authors to self-publish their work with a chance of being picked up by Hay House. What a deal! Your hook is, “Follow the Footsteps of Louise Hay.” Continue reading

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The Downfall of Diets: Intuitive Eating

The Downfall of Dietshow to eat your cake and wear your skinny jeans too

DISCLAIMER: Josie Spinardi’s (lifetime dieter gone intuitive) book, How to have your Cake and Wear your Skinny Jeans, too: http://www.amazon.com/Have-Your-Cake-Skinny-Jeans-ebook/dp/B00B9JKNBC inspired this blog. I highly recommend it for those trying to reconnect with their bodies, and who want to fall back in love with food.

 

I’ve been a dieter since I was young, ridiculously young. And I can safely say, from decades of experience, they don’t work for me.

Diets will not make me a healthy person.

For the past few years my relationship with food has been evolving. Frankly, I’d had enough of seeing food as the enemy. Wasn’t it supposed to nourish and sustain me, not give me night terrors? Argh! The giant donuts are coming to eat me! Why was food a difficult thing? I was so good with money, loved my career, had a phenomenal family life, and wonderful friends. I had SO much love to give, why, oh why, couldn’t I just have a healthy, loving relationship with food?

 

 

 

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Hammered: Memoir of an Addict

Hammered

Hammered by GN Braun

 

You know when you watch a movie or read a book and it stays with you, like the Titanic, or Once Were Warriors? Well for me, Hammered is going to be one of those books. To the tune of Candy (a movie I’ll never forget) with a male protagonist who happens to be sharing his true story, Hammered is revealing, raw, and filled with the stuffing of a mother’s nightmare. Continue reading

Parenthood and Writing: How do you do it?

This is a great question. People ask me a lot.

I have two under two and still manage to write. How do I it? Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes there is absolutely no possible way I can write a single word, because I’m having a day spawned from the fiery pits of hell. Or sometimes, I write five lines. OR sometimes I write for an hour. It ALL depends on several things, but the most important one is this: I have to decide to do it. I have to go through extreme decision making processes that involve being selfish for a nanosecond. And, I have to be creative with my timing.

Jack July 14

My little man. Yes he is as cheeky as he looks.

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Why am I so Misunderstood?

Teacher AND Learner for life.

Teacher AND Learner for life.

 

Why am I so Misunderstood?

I’ve been asking this question for a long time. I think we all ask it every now and then, but there are some of us who face it a lot. I think I’ve figured out why it happens to me. And recently, I haven’t asked it anymore, I just get it. I get that people don’t get me, and that’s okay.

I’m not black and white. Yeah, yeah, I know none of us are, but I’m a ridiculous type of grey that makes absolutely no sense. Well, it does now (to me) after 31 years of figuring it all out.

Firstly, I come from a family with a single mum and one brother. I grew up playing Nintendo and Sega, and watched a lot of television. I had Barbies (whose hair was shaved and coloured with texta) and ate red frogs. I walked the streets with my mates, swearing and sticking my finger up at passing cars then hiding behind buildings, playing knock and run, climbing onto rooves of high schools with wheelie bins, and more that I won’t mention here.

Then, on the other hand, I was afraid to climb trees (go figure with the buildings), wore lots of frilly dresses, played tea parties, loved school, and did ballet. Continue reading

The Teenage Brain by HMC

Kevin BBC

Kevin BBC

Poor teenagers. They get such a bad rap. Us oldies forget we used to be one. We forget what it used to be like to be the only person that ever felt anything, or had a remarkable thought. I remember sitting in my room for hours on end writing poetry and painting. While I wallowed in my own self misery, I may have forgotten to do the dishes, but I certainly wasn’t hurting anyone. I believed that no adult would ever understand me. And in some ways, I was right. Our teens have a pretty bad name with the oldies, and in most cases, it’s just not fair.

I had some readers send me some questions a while back and thought I’d try my hand at pulling them apart. I don’t have a teenager, but I do work with them. Message me in ten years when I do have one and we’ll laugh together at some of my attempted answers. Continue reading