Click to hop over and see what I’m up to on the
NEW BLOG!
Here is my first post on my new page Reaching for Happiness Blog!
I hope you had a very Merry Christmas and wish you the very best for a Happy New Year 2016!
I hope to see as many of you as possible over on the new happiness blog, because I’m sure I’ll need your help!
Take care,
Jude x.
You may or may not have realised, but I haven’t been blogging here for a LONG while, nearly 2 months in fact!
I have been concentrating on home schooling my daughter…I am now focussing on being well and being happy, and not concentrating on illness.
So, if you’d like to join me on my quest to health and happiness, or just read about it even, head on over to
I WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU THERE!
Thank you for reading,
On the first of every month here in the UK a silly superstitious tradition is still practiced which purportedly hails back to Ye Olde England times, the tradition goes thus:-
One party hails another with –
Pinch! Punch! First Day of the Month! No Returns to me!
Whilst reciting this little phrase the first party gets to both pinch and punch the second party and then exclaim they can’t be pinched or punched in return…
…how utterly charming.
And it’s all because of WITCHES, it’s so obvious really. I’m surprised I never knew this until now!
Here it is explained by this source:
“Originating from old England times when people thought that witches existed. People thought that salt would make a witch weak, so the pinch part is pinching of the salt, and the punch part was to banish the witch. The witch would be weak from the salt so the punch was to banish her.”
Of course we don’t actually go out on the streets battering each other.
We are British, after all. That just wouldn’t be cricket.
We simply ‘pretend’ pinch and punch each other in private. We’re not beasts, you know. I expect on the playground things aren’t quite so gentile.
We have a Pinch and Punch Ninja Queen in our house. Gia thinks up some ingenious and surprising ways to ensure she gets to do the act before it is done unto her.
This morning it was waking up at the crack of dawn, creeping into our bedroom, lifting the covers a little, and pinching our toes. I’m just glad I was awake, or else I may have accidentally kicked her in the face. By accident. Not on purpose. No. I love being woken up in the early hours of a Sunday morning to have my foot tickled.
Really. Love it.
At least I now know I’m not a witch.
😉
Jude.
This is me. One angry bird. ‘For why, Jude?’ I hear you ask. Well, let me tell you.
My dear constant readers, all three of you, will know that I have a daughter who has developmental issues due to cerebral palsy. One of those issues is believing everything that she’s told by those in authority – be it teachers, grandparents or what’s on the news.
For some reason, this issue doesn’t extend to believing what her parent’s say. Weird.
So when it was announced this week by the World Health Organisation’s cancer research team peeps at the UN – the International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC) – that eating processed and red meat causes cancer, Gia decided she’d better not eat those things.
So yesterday, all she ate was cookies. The delicious spaghetti and meatballs I had made – one of her favourites! – went mostly uneaten.
Gia is more than a picky eater – it goes beyond that because her oral muscles are so rubbish for chewing and swallowing and all that – but a picky eater she is.
So now we have to convince her that occasional red meat is fine, fish is something people eat and enjoy, chicken is wonderful and low in saturated fat, vegetable and fruit are full of vitamins and antioxidants, sugar is bad for you full-stop.
Online Newspaper Sources – The Guardian | The Independent
Angry Bird image from Pixabay
“Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.” – George Eliot
Jude
Hi, I’m Jude. I am a married mother of 2 teenagers, I work as a social care disability support worker a few hours a week when I’m not home-schooling my daughter who has a disability, or blogging. Or cleaning. I write about Rheumatoid Arthritis, chronic illness and disability and any other related things that affect my little family. I try my best to be funny too.
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Today –
Mostly live from the MBFRLife headquarters –
News just in –
While I’m writing this, I have a few people I know in mind. I work as a Community Adult Social Support Worker, and I’ve seen a few things, let me tell you. I also have personal experience with various family members in the whole age range who experience chronic conditions, chronic pain, mental health issues and disability –
No? That’s because you’re still young…or incredibly lucky.
Oh, and I have Rheumatoid Arthritis, one of the autoimmune’s systems hilarious inflammatory japes. It limits my activities most days and makes me sleep like a Grizzly in January sometimes, but with a lot more snoring.
So – back on track. Have you heard of the Spoon Theory of chronic illness? If you haven’t, go google it if you want to. I’m not going to bore you with it, I personally find it an irritating idea condensing one’s life of pain and illness down to how many bloody spoons you have. I’m not 5.
All I know is, if I’m physically active (which to me means up on my feet, doing something with my hands) for 10 minutes, I then need to sit for 10 minutes. Then I’m fine again to continue with what I was doing.
Permit me, if you don’t mind, to cannibalise Newton’s Third Law of Motion –
I choose to view this as:
This can be distilled into a simple formula:
Conversely, if you have been sitting a long while, say you accidentally binged watched old episodes of Desperate Housewives one Saturday afternoon while your husband was visiting his mother, this formula must also be true:
If you wanted to, you could add (Ch) to the formula,
In some instances, it is helpful to add pi:
And so,
This is what works for me.
Some days ‘rest’ means a little sit down. Other days it means a 2 hour nap. Most days it means sitting with my feet up, coffee and TV remote at hand, and doggie between my knees. But only for the amount of time it takes to rest up, not for hours on end.
I can do so much more if I pace myself, rather than throwing my tired, twisted body into things headlong. That way leads to pain and misery for everyone. I like to share my feelings, so sue me.
If I’m out and about, I take opportunities to sit down whenever I can. It means I can shop for hours or go for days out now. Awesome.
Especially if those opportunities come with a
Making a point of resting means I can do stuff the next day. It means I can keep my home mostly organised and clean, homeschool my 16 year old, work, and be an absolutely wonderful wife and mother.
Hahahaha! No.
It’s not a miracle worker.
I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s post –
Jude x
P.s. apology:
Mr BFRLife, an electrical engineer, and the elder Miss BFRLife student of Physics and Maths, both think my formula is lame. I can hear them out in the kitchen talking about Work Done formula, power and energy, velocity, vectors and something else. The younger Miss BFRLife is doing something Pokémon related in her bedroom, and I’m certain couldn’t give tuppence about my formula. She sits down more often than I do.
Hi, I’m Jude. I am a married mother of 2 teenagers, I work as a social care disability support worker a few hours a week when I’m not home-schooling my daughter who has a disability, or blogging. Or cleaning. I write about Rheumatoid Arthritis, chronic illness and disability and any other related things that affect my little family. I try my best to be funny too.
Click Here to subscribe to this blog.
Click Here to find me on Facebook or Twitter.
I’m not a fan of reading long posts, and thus am not a fan of writing them either, so I’ll keep it short and sweet.
This time the letter is – hold on to your saddle – A.
Shocking, I know.
If you’re still with me, I shall continue.
The average age of onset varies according to source, but all agree that between 40 and 60 years old is the most common age range of onset, although it can and does happen earlier. Babies, children and teens under 17 are diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis (aka Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis) by the thousands worldwide each year.
Rheumatoid Arthritis is an autoimmune disease. Simply put, the immune system has gone haywire and attacks the squishy parts of the joints, not the bones as in wear and tear Osteoarthritis. RA can cause inflammation in any part of the body, which can be embarrassing if your eyes are bloodshot for months on end. It can also be fatal if that which is inflamed is the heart sack or blood vessels. Eeeeww.
On that happy note, I shall bid you adieu – thank you for reading!
– Jude
Hand X-Ray image from Wikipedia Commons
Hi, I’m Jude. I am a married mother of 2 teenagers, I work as a social care disability support worker a few hours a week when I’m not home-schooling my daughter who has a disability, or blogging. Or cleaning. I write about Rheumatoid Arthritis, chronic illness and disability and any other related things that affect my little family. I try my best to be funny too.
Click Here to subscribe to this blog.
Click Here to find me on Facebook or Twitter.
This happens to me ALL THE TIME!
Is it because I’m old? NO!
Is it because I’m a woman? NO!
Is it because I’m a busy wife, mother, worker, who’s also chronically ill? NO!
Oh, ok, it’s all of those things!
Happy Friday Folks!
Jude x
Hi, I’m Jude. I am a married mother of 2 teenagers, I work as a social care disability support worker a few hours a week when I’m not home-schooling my daughter who has a disability, or blogging. Or cleaning. I write about Rheumatoid Arthritis, chronic illness and disability and any other related things that affect my little family. I try my best to be funny too.
Click Here to subscribe to this blog.
Click Here to find me on Facebook or Twitter.
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