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Last night I proclaimed "I have nothing to wear!".  This is nothing new.  These words have often spat out of my mouth over the years if truth be told. Next week we have a 60th birthday bash to attend at our local community centre, so not a grand affair by any stretch of the imagination.  I really can't bare to wear my fat outfit which I described in my post The Buffet Girl Part II. This outfit urgently needs to retire from public life.

So I have planned a solo trip into town on Saturday with only one requirement in mind - something that fits.  My husband made a very astute observation - "I know what will happen you'll come back with nothing and be in a foul mood for the rest of the day."  "You won't find anything in the first shop so this will set you up for the rest of the trip".  As you can gather he's not looking forward to seeing me return stormy faced and then having the predictable "I'm so fat" conversation.

He suggests I try on a dress from my wardrobe to give me an idea of what one will look like and the style to go for. This way I won't be devastated in the changing rooms at the weekend.  I also ordered two in a size 16 online that I liked from Dorothy Perkins but I just know they won't fit.

At bedtime (I should have gone up earlier) I try on my size 16 dress, which is quite fitted, and even when I did fit into it properly, I always used to think of that as my fat outfit. How the goalposts have moved.  I could have done the zip up at the side if I wanted to lose an eye, so I opted to leave it open whilst saying "It will do up!". I then threw on a coral number that I wore to a friends wedding last August - "it looks no bloody different" I cried.  The hubster agreed conclusively.

I was so disheartened and feel I should probably cancel the trip on Saturday as I know he's right - I will be in a foul mood afterwards. Even separates are going to look awful I have tops that will look fine but its the bottom half and my gigantic tummy. When will I ever like going clothes shopping?  I have hated it for so many years now. It really is a chore.  I have not gone to events because of the dreaded having to find something to wear for it. When my daughter was 3 months old my cousin got married (now divorced) in secret but then had a bit of a party which we were invited too.  I'm ashamed to say and will always regret that I didn't go - I couldn't face it. We were on holiday at the time but we could have gone.

I know I've lost 20lbs but clothes shopping will not be in the least bit pleasurable until I've lost another 2 stone.  This I am certain of and even then it will be a size 14.  I need to crank it up a notch big time.  It is March tomorrow - time is marching (no pun intended) on. I need to look different from last year. I just have to.

So this has taken the wind out of my sails I must admit. I do feel down about it all but know I now need to be very strict (I have been slacking a bit on writing down everything I eat and the exercise eased up a bit last week too) with everything and really push on.  I can't be demoralised by it - look at the people who lose 10 stone and then have to lose another 10 stone to reach goal weight. That must be demoralising.

I have set up a new page today called March Momentum - yes that really is the best I could come up with.  Today I have only had one slice of bread as a sandwich and I will be reverting to wholemeal pitta for my lunch in future.  Right I'm off to work out to the biggest loser and begin the March Momentum.

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 13:12 4 comments: Links to this post 

Monday Weigh In..

...sorry its late but I have made a deal with myself that all exercise and household matters will be done prior to any blog posts. So .....drum roll please.....1lb off!! Now I know this will not win me The Biggest Loser title anytime soon but it does mean, ladies and gentleman, that I'm in the 12 stone region. Finally! I am pleased with this small loss as I only managed to do one workout last week as I was merrily preparing my daughter's birthday cake.

I did have a slip up on my no 'C's rule though. On Sunday after we had returned from the Build-A-Bear Workshop party (and McDonald's lunch) my step-daughter, kids, and I congratulated ourselves on a thoroughly enjoyable party by eating some cake!  I totally forgot my lent promise so was pretty annoyed when I remembered later on. I've never given up anything for lent before (as only recently started to believe in the good man upstairs) so unsure as to my penance.  Anyway, let us never speak of it again and continue with the no 'C' rule as before. I won't tell if you won't.

So what of the Build-A-Bear party?  I was reliably informed that this was the party of all parties and that my daughter would love it.  I am glad to say she was right.  I was a bit sceptical that it would be Build-A-Bear and bend over whilst we shaft you for an obscene amount of money. I am pleased to say it was fluff well spent. I was a Build A Bear virgin prior to this party. I had never before taken the kids into this store . We don't tend to go shopping with the kids in tow (as you know most things get delivered to this house) and tend to do walks in woods etc at the weekend.  So my friend, lets call her the BABG (Build a Bear Groupie) for short, had explained the whole process.

Her eyes lit up upon entry to the workshop, she knew the bears, she knew the outfits "we have a whole box of them at home". She is one hard core BABG. I'm pretty sure she would have given it all up (being a stay at home mum) if they asked her to work there yesterday. Her excitement and enthusiasm for the place was contagious and I have to say I might well be joining her and becoming a BABG myself.  She just about tore herself away to do some much needed shopping and was gutted (I mean gutted!) she'd missed the Pawlett Mascot (aka someone dressed up as rabbit for 15 mins for the price of £20).  I thought what the hell in for a penny and all that.

I sneaked an outfit for my daughter's bear whilst my friend bagged some seats at McDonald's for phase two. I didn't steal it just made sure the other children didn't see as I had decided outfits on top would have been a bend over party. So chicken nuggets all round followed by the cake cutting. I was a bit nervous about this aspect of the party as there have been stabbings in the town centre. I did feel that if this happened whilst the kids were happily eating their lunch, surrounded by the bears all packed in lovely boxes together with their certificates, this may put a slight dampener on the celebrations.

As it was no such incidents occurred - it was lovely and went without a hitch.  In any event, I was "tooled up" I explained to two of the mums whilst waving my large cake cutting knife - no need to worry!

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 21:24 2 comments: Links to this post Labels: Build-A-Bear Workshop Party, McDonalds


Are you on my wave length?

When can you tell if someones on your wave length?  Mine's decidedly dodgy at the best of times, so I feel very triumphant when I've found someone that is on one similar to mine.  Now I've been meaning to write this post for a little while now. I was going to throw it in with my previous post which concerned the letter 'C' but seeing as I was talking about the Mormons and religion, it didn't seem appropriate and if you can bare with the suspense, you will find out why in a moment.

I figure that the high brow never stick around too long on my blog so they won't be offended.  I'm just going to go for it then. Cocksucker.  Yes you heard right.  I love this word. It makes me chuckle inwardly.  I think it stems from when I used to watch Steve Coogan in Alan Partridge - its that kind of humour. Every now and then, if I'm in a queue at the checkout and someones holding it up, faffing around in their purse with no regard for the people behind them - I imagine charging through, flinging their goods up in the air and shouting "COCKSUCKER!"

I wanted to call this post something along the lines of  "Is there a right time to call your friend a cocksucker?" or "You know you're true friends when the word cocksucker is uttered". You see my problem.  I have opted for the safe "Are you on my wave length" option. I certainly won't be labelling this post with 'cocksucker' even though the hits would go through the roof.  I reason that if someone has typed 'cocksucker' into the search engine then they're not going to stick around and read The 1970's Diet.

Even though I know quite a few people, acquaintances, various mum friends at different stages of my children's lives  - pre-school, ante-natal etc and of course family and older friends. There are very few, I can just text "you cocksucker!" in reply to something quite innocent like "I'm running late". I'm guessing I could only do this with about 7 or 8 people that I know.

I did this in December to a school mum whom I like.  We had been to a few bits and bobs together, coffee at mine, coffee at hers - a gradual build up. Nothing full on like the Single White Female film. I had an instict we were on the same level but I couldn't be entirely sure. We were at that stage where you're just sussing out whether the same people piss you off!

So she does, in fact, say she's running late. I pondered a few seconds and thought shall I? Shan't I? Will she find this funny? Will she think what the fuck? How disgusting I though she was alright. Thankfully a resounding LOL!! came back.  Phew friendship still in tact.

Now the other day my sister remarked on her facebook status that she had won some money on the horses. Her twin (I have twin sisters to clear up any confusion) put "biatch" and I put "cocksucker". I got the thumbs up like button. They are well aware of my chosen profanity.  My best friend isn't overly enamoured with it, she doesn't quite get my liking of it and normally says "oh charming". However, I can say it and that's the main thing.  Its an occasional treat.

So please don't be offended if I call you a Cocksucker anytime soon it really is a term of endearment from me to you.

On the diet front the food aspect has been very good this week. I didn't have any of my daughter's birthday cake and am managing my no 'C''s rule.  Everytime I think about having a nibble on buddy's cookie the word chemo keeps popping up in my head. By the way my friend's cancer hasn't spread which is great news although she still has to have chemo.

The exercise has been piss poor only one workout this week. This is because I have been working on her birthday cake.  I will try and fit in a Wii dance tomorrow morning but I think that will be it for the week.


Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 16:16 9 comments: Links to this post Labels: Alan Partridge, Single White Female, Steve Coogan, swearing


Giving it Up!

No, No, No I hear you all cry not your diet! Nope not my diet - phew still got lots to lose.  I'm talking about lent. I'm giving up not one, not two, but THREE things for lent. I figure if you're going to do it, do it in style.  I'm not particularly religious so Shrove Tuesday means one thing to me - tossing pancakes (cue numerous sexual innuendos by thirty/forty somethings myself included) and the day after means.. well the day after.

I do believe in God though,which I touched on in my post, (http://the1970sdiet.blogspot.com/2012/01/lifes-too-short.html) Life's too short? This came about following my stint as an Ancestry buff or nerd which ever you prefer. It got me thinking about god like matters and I came to the conclusion that I am a believer.  I haven't felt the need to trot down to my local church and I think he'd be okay with that decision - to be a armchair believer.  After all, I'm a busy blogger these days.

If I were to pick a religion, out of the chosen currently on offer, then I'd pick The Church of the Latter Day Saints.  A Mormon if you please. This would be based purely on the following:-

Pretty, pretty, pretty good reasons I wager.  I really all hope you watch Larry David as this really does get wasted. Anyway, I digress somewhat, the three things I have given up begin with the letter C.

Chocolate. Crisps. Cake.

Now I can manage 40 days without chocolate this I am sure of.  Cake maybe a bit iffy considering its my daughter's birthday tomorrow and party Sunday but that's a minor detail.  Crisps is a tough one as anyone who reads my blog on a regular basis (I love you all) will know the deal with Frazzles.  I have come to the conclusion that, if my friend has to deal with two other C's (Cancer and Chemo), then my little token suffering in support will be a walk in the park.
I think just to be on the safe side I will also set up a Sesame Street style C page on my blog for lent.

I made one small step towards my thinness goal today by dusting off and peeling on my size 14 jeans.  A few months ago these bad boys weren't going anywhere above the knee.  I have to admit they did look sprayed on in the thigh region but they were on. The blood circulation in my body continued and I did not pass out. I did have more than a muffin top going on, a whole bakery was on display, one that Greggs would have been proud to call their own - but they remained on for the rest of the day.

I was sure the hubster would remark as soon as he walked in "bloody hell how tight are those!" followed by raucous laughter. He did not. He gave me the low down show down of his day and after being fed I said "notice anything different?" He replied "your hair looks nice?"

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 20:55 5 comments: Links to this post Labels: Brandon Flowers, lent, Mormons, The Killers, tight jeans


Oh Marvellous! my breast cancer "journey"....:

For those that follow my blog I posted recently (title a difficult post) about my best friend who has been diagnosed with grade 3 breast cancer. I told her in no uncertain terms to get blogging and I'm glad to say she has! Here is the blog link and she can also be found on twitter @ohmarvellous.  Thank you!

Oh Marvellous! my breast cancer "journey"....: Oh Bollocks - more like it!!! today is the day I...: Oh Bollocks - more like it!!! today is the day I have had the worst news anyone, at my age, with 2 lovely children can have - in my opinio...
Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 13:19 No comments: Links to this post 
Post half term weigh in..

...aka Monday weigh in.  Well I breathed a sigh of relief this morning with a 'maintain',  a 'stayed the same'.  Now I appreciate that I am on a diet before you all start yelling "you're meant to lose weight get your shit together" but for me and on the back of a half term holiday this is pretty darn good.

As I mentioned earlier in the week I had a frazzle attack (see post which I called, funnily enough, Frazzle Attack!), husband was ill in bed with his back from Saturday - Thursday and I was alone in the evening cue picking at stuff that's not on my 1970's diet.  I also only managed to do a feeble bit of exercise after I booted the kids off the x-box and their now beloved Skylanders game.

One great thing though is I'm raring to go again. I had lost my mojo the last couple of weeks what with my friend's breast cancer news and my husbands back condition.  I am a worry eater. I'm just happy I didn't lose the plot completely.  Oh and the small matter of the little fella up 3/ 4 x a night last week. It really does have a huge impact on my desire and energy levels but I'm going to have to deal with this and make sure, no matter how tired I am, to exercise.  I know exercise only accounts for 30% of your weight loss but it also puts me in the correct mind set. After doing exercise I always think why would I want to eat something I shouldn't and undo all my hard work?

I also have a few new goals I've set myself.  I want to be 12 stone dead by the end of March I think that this is achievable.  I want to do a 'race for life' in May even though I've never ran before and always cringe at the sight of all the ladies in their pink wings and stuff.  There is a school quiz night in a few weeks time, a 60th birthday party on 10th March and my husbands birthday at the end of March. It would be nice to wear something new and that fits nicely.

I'm off to clean the house now and am raring to go. Happy Monday people!
Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 09:57 2 comments: Links to this post 

Why Harry met Sally...

..and it wasn't to be friends now was it? This question has been kicking around for decades quite possibly for centuries.  Can men and women ever be friends in the true platonic sense of the word? No sex allowed.

I found this definition of platonic:-

a pure, spiritual affection, subsisting between persons of opposite sex, unmixed with carnal desires, and regarding the mind only and its excellences; - a species of love for which Plato was a warm advocate

Now I'm not that well versed on Greek philosophers.  If truth be told I am not well read at all but I have it on good authority that many were homosexual. So lets assume that Plato (not Pluto - Mickey's best friend as I originally read it) was gay.  So the notion of a gay man having a platonic friendship with a woman is relatively easy isn't it?

However if you apply this to a heterosexual  man, in my opinion, this relationship can never be platonic as the sex part always gets in the way.  You only have to watch practically any Woody Allen film to see that a platonic friendship is the oldest cliche in Tinsel Town.  At some point a man will (or woman) want to take it further. I'm not talking about having a full on relationship - just sex.  Besides how often have you heard the phrase "we were friends for ages before we got it together"?

Asides from the classic faking of an orgasm scene performed by Meg Ryan - there's also the scene where Harry (Billy Crystal) says, most definitely, that men cannot have a platonic friendship with a women. He will always want to have sex with them if he finds them physically attractive. Even if they don't find them attractive they will still want to have sex with them.

Now this subject came about when a friend of mine came for lunch this week.  She was having 3 male friends around for dinner (her husband was away - aware of the long lasting friendships) and another female friend, who just so happened to have slept with one of the 'friends', whilst he was separated from his wife.  My friend, therefore, was already on decidedly dodgy ground with regard to her argument that you could have a platonic friendship.  My eyebrows were well and truly raised at this point.

These male friends were all married/with long term partners.  The female friends didn't like the partners so they were excluded from this rather bizarre set-up.  I suggested that perhaps, just perhaps, the female friends in this click were the problem.  Surely for the sake of the 'friendship' with these men folk that their chosen partners should be tolerated within the inner circle of trust.

I mentioned the Harry met Sally film to which she cried "but that's just a film!" just because it was in a film (a LOT of films by the way) doesn't mean to say its true. Its true alright and that's why it features in films so heavily. I do think women are, like a lot of things, naive about such matters.  They think because they wouldn't contemplate having sexual feelings for their friend that the same most be true of the bloke.

Then she proclaimed "well if a man is thinking that there's nothing I can do and I'd still want to be friends with them". Fair point but it is not a platonic friendship then is it.

I don't have any male friends. She really was staggered at this rather foreign concept.  To me its very clear. Why would I want to spend time alone with another man other than my husband? Would I want my husband to be having dinner with a female 'friend'? No. Mixed groups fine. On your own, no.

My oldest friend was also of the same opinion - surely your husband is the male friend you should be closest too she said. Furthermore she would not want her husband having an intimate friendship with a woman. There's only one place that can lead to and that's the bedroom.

Finally, the hubster remarked, "why an earth would a man want a platonic friendship with a woman"?

Over to you people all comments welcome!

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 18:21 12 comments: Links to this post Labels: Billy Crystal, greek philosophers, Meg Ryan, plato, platonic friendships, play it again sam, When Harry met Sally, Woody Allen



You decide. I finally got to sleep at 2 am last night so have no energy to exercise and blog at the moment.  Hopefully normal service will resume tomorrow.  So in the meantime, here are my before fat, at fattest, fat and reduced fat pictures.  Let me know if you feel my nearly 20lbs weight loss has made any impact when I started my diet at 14 stone 5lbs.

All honest comments welcome - I can take it - I'm 38 and a big (in every sense of the word!) girl!!



More up-to-date pics are on the 'about me' page but here are some in any event

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 16:20 9 comments: Links to this post 

Frazzle Attack!

﻿Well I would be no good as an Army wife that's for sure.  He would return from his tour of duty to be greeted by a big fat lard arse waiting to be serviced. Now, if I were a bloke, I'm pretty sure the Frazzle's would not have got a look in.  No, 'in private browsing' would have been my first port of call.  Have you seen the advert letting the fellas know about this function on the computer?  Well if you haven't its comical.  In the advert, to promote the wanking function, he is looking for a present to buy his wife! He's using the function so she won't stumble upon her surprise present in 'browsing history'. Oh what a thoughtful fella he is.

He is not using it for, like every other bloke, to have a wank when you are out of the picture. This function was designed for and primarily used by men. We know it. They know it. It is what it is. I always chuckle when the subject of "I've just discovered my other half watches porn - what do you think?" crops up on the mum sites. I think he forgot to switch on the 'in private browsing' function is what I think.

But I'm not a bloke so I succumbed to my equivalent - Frazzles.  They really are junk and probably should be banned and I'm not quite sure where and when my Frazzle fetish started.  They're not going to make me god like - today someone came across my blog by putting in "having a fetish will make you god like"!  Erm no it just makes you a bit kinky and you're probably of an upper class persuasion.

After eating the Aldi brand version of the Frazzle (don't get the Co-operative or Sainsbury's versions they just aren't up to scratch) I felt sick, bad and dirty all at once and went to bed feeling Frazzle violated.

However, it did get me thinking about my blog and twitter.  I'm going to make sure I do any exercise prior to writing blog posts and limit my exposure to twitter.  I really don't want my kids, earliest memory of me, to be of my head bowed down scrolling through my phone looking at things that are, in real terms, pretty insignificant.  I only started this blog to lose weight and will finish blogging once my work here is done. Less talking and more doing #justsayin.

So today we had a lovely morning. We went to the dentist and were seen early - it was empty so patients missed buddy screaming his head off whilst I was in the chair. Thankfully nothing needed to be done and the "ticking time bomb of fillings" seems to have stopped at the same time I gave up 'diet' drinks. It strips the enamel off your teeth you see.

We went to WH Smith (where I purchased my first ever 7 inch record D.I.S.C.O at age 7) and the kids picked out 3 books for the price of 2. We then went into KFC, a special treat, we don't frequent these places that often.  I'm not snobby about them they just freak me out in the same way Ikea does.

The menus are so confusing - meal deals, super size options, combos, etc etc.  There's no time to read the bloody things properly because the professional meal dealers are breathing down your neck. They know all the meal deal options - they are the pros after all.  When I had finally got to grips with with the menu, I sat down to see a giant poster, saying I could have had practically everything in the restaurant for £13 in a bucket. As it was I spent that on our little kiddie meals and my sandwich. See I'm no good in these places.

Again the place was empty - although I had the chicken sandwich type thing I will be having tinned soup tonight.  Its not something I normally eat but I am realistic in that I will always be joining in on these occasions. The Biggest Loser workout has been completed and will be tomorrow. I will lose weight this week if it kills me.

Finally, to top off our day, Skylanders has just arrived!

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 15:59 10 comments: Links to this post Labels: Frazzles, Ikea, In private browsing, KFC, meal deals, Skylanders


Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Dead soldiers love letters is what I've got you!

Well it does kind of rhyme doesn't it? Yes you read correctly. That is what I got the hubster for his Valentine's gift this year.  Impressed or what? Bet you didn't think of that did you?  Anyone of sound mind probably didn't think of that. In my defence I did not realise that the soldiers in my chosen books for my lovely didn't come home.  Given that so many didn't I should have figured that out.  So not altogether romantic but the thought was there.

You see my husband is collecting WWII helmets (Matron! in best Kenneth Williams voice) at the moment. He has always had a keen interest on WWI and WWII.  The man is at an age (47) where he can start collecting things. He doesn't need any more stuff. "You come into this world with nothing and you leave with nothing" - my grandad.  Having said that, men still like to collect things.

When he first declared his intention of collecting WWII helmets I had visions of people stepping into our house thinking they'd come across some Right Wing Nazi den.  Something out of Pulp Fiction or Falling Down where Michael Douglas goes into the Army supplies store.  My husband is so left wing practically communist that I didn't want people to get the wrong impression.  Thankfully his little collection of British Tommy, French, Spanish, Russian etc helmets look pretty cool. There are 9 in total and we all like to have a turn at trying them on.  I'm planing on having a helmet wearing dinner party any day now. So with that in mind I purchased two books. 1) love letters from the front - letters written by a solider from Liverpool who writes to his Irish girlfriend during World War 1.  He dies and never meets her again. Opps.  2) Unfinished Journey - these are letters written by an 19 year old American who is the eldest of 10.  He writes to his parents. He comes from New Orleans so can speak fluent French but doesn't like the French as some collaborated. He liked England although wasn't impressed when they wouldn't serve him in the pubs.  He also never came home.  I also purchased some Dairy Milk chocolates, in a heart shaped box, for him to enjoy whilst reading the tales of these two dead soldiers.

There is a book called "love from Tommy" or something like that. A collection of love letters from the British Tommy in WW1. This does not come out untill October. This would have been perfect, so I was slightly annoyed about the delay, given that the author has had the best part of 90 years to get his shit together.

Although we do get each other cards and little gifts on Valentines day, its not a major deal.   My reputation in the present giving department is notorious now.  For instance, on our first 'paper' wedding anniversary (we married in 2009) I got my husband some stamps with our picture on.  I don't know what I was thinking, although they are actually legal tender, so if he wants to post a letter with our pictures on he can. He got me 3 fabulous hard back Taschen books.  No contest.


So this year whilst bed bound he arranged for some flowers and chocolate to be delivered. The kids did some lovely Valentines craft bits at our local SureStart centre, which, I like more than the flowers if truth be told.  If you can't think of any good reason to have a child, then let me give you one, the lovely little home made bits they make for you.

Valentines day is quite cute but its really meant for the youngsters isn't it?  Back in secondary school my friend and I had a pact whereby we used to send each other a Valentines card in case we didn't get one.  I think she got 4 one year which included my card!



Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 14:25 6 comments: Links to this post 

Monday Weigh in..

..and no surprise - well actually it is a surprise as I could have easily put on this week.  I've stayed the same weight.  I loosely followed my diet this week and I mean loosely - as free and easy as Denise Welch from the daytime yawn that is Loose Women.  The cupcakes that I enjoyed with my friend on Thursday were the beginning of my descent into free style dieting (it doesn't work by the way).  Then my husbands back injury Saturday just about sealed the deal in the no weight loss this week.  I need to give myself a short sharp slap as the reason I started this diet was when I put on 5lbs (having stayed the same weight for the best part of a year) when the husband was off work sick for 3 weeks.  I do not want a repeat performance. He is still in bed by the way and I reckon will be for most of the week.

He has joked to get myself some roses from Aldi when I do the shop tomorrow - I have to mention at this point my husband is a hard Northern type. For my overseas visitors this means he hails from the North of England although he is Scottish as his parents were - clear - good. Nothing much stops him working his nuts off at home or at work.  He really has no off button so when he's sick he's properly sick.  I mean he eats chicken curry out of a tin for goodness sake. That's how proper tough he is. He says eating a tuna sandwich or having melon is "middle class". You get the picture.

So the reason for my 'maintain' as they call it in the slimming clubs (and I dont' want to see another one of those for as long as I live) was that I was unable to keep my feelings of worry and tiredness separate from my diet.  This is something that I need to address and pretty pronto. Ordinarily I could have done the exercise to keep the worry and stress at bay but enter my constant companion of tiredness this meant I had little energy to do so.

So today I am an angry woman. My angry barometer is right up there. I am in bad form.  I've been snappy and Sargent Majorish with the kids "get it tidied" I've yelled quite a few times this morning.  Little buddy is also getting the brunt as he is intent on messing everything up as I go. For example as I'm cleaning the floors he's right behind me in my daughter's snow boots leaving some more marks to clean up.  I'm pretty sure he would answer to being called any of the following names. "leave it", "not in there" "out of there" "no" "careful" or "come away".  In fact, his real name, not buddy, is rarely used.

The only thing that can save us all from this dismal day is a man arriving at our door with a package from Amazon containing the Skylanders starter kit.  A bit like Santa at Xmas we have tracked the parcel as being in our local area at 8.00 am this morning. So where are you... you are our only hope...
Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 14:03 No comments: Links to this post Labels: fed up, Hard Northerner, Reasons for maintaining weight, Skylanders, tiredness, worry


What do you think..

of the mad and crazy background?  Is it too much does it make your head spin. Now I love the pink troll in the bikini. Does it need to come back - let me know please!
Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 20:59 2 comments: Links to this post 
February - "You break my heart"

For those old enough to remember - do you remember the scene in St Elmo's Fire (1985) where Demi Moore says to Rob Lowe "you break my heart"  well that's how I'm beginning to feel about February.  Okay maybe not so dramatic but we're only 12 days in and you're already a big disappointment.

I used to think February was a good month.  I know its normally the coldest month but when you enter February you've left January so it gets its first 'check' right there.  Then there's the fact its quite blase about how many days its going to have.  It decides, not us, we have to guess. Its the month of rebels.  It doesn't follow the crowd.

Then if you're really desperate you can propose marriage if the person you've been with for many years still hasn't asked you (I'm guessing they have no intention but if you want to humiliate yourself go ahead). February says so. February is one hard nut bastard month.

Then there's Valentine's it makes you buy a card because it can even if you're happily married.  My husband struggles with the concept of having to get a Valentines card when we're married "isn't it meant to be for people who want to start courting (yes he really does use that word)". Yes it is. Get me a card.  He always does and with some flowers but he does have a valid point.  It is the most unromantic day of the year and he does enough during the course of the year to demonstrate his feelings for me.

Its my daughter's birthday at the end of February - so there is still a glimmer of hope that it might come up trumps for me.

So why the big grudge against February? Well my best friend was diagnosed with Breast Cancer and this week she was told what grade it is.  Remember I said 1 was the best 3 was the worse. Well February dished up number 3.  The snow, whilst we have only have a splattering, has now made any car journeys a bit of a lottery unless the hubster uses his truck to jump start my battery.

Little Buddy had been sleeping fairly well - and had gone about 3 weeks sleeping through the night.  He's had a cold, teething and now that's all a distant memory. Last night was 11.30, 1.30 and 4.00 am but he did wake up then at 9.30am so I did get some sleep in amongst that lot.

I like routine. I am a creature of habit. I have to do lists and specific days I do things on.  I can cope with deviations but I would rather not thank you.

And this weekend my husbands back gave way again.  Last year he had to go to hospital with a prolapsed disc. A long story for another day.  I have a few stories pending I will get around to them at some point. He was off work for 3 weeks and being self-employed this isn't a good thing.  Anyway, he has been in bed since Saturday and I'm hoping he will get better.  Enter my headache and no desire to do any exercise at all and to eat stuff I shouldn't.

The two things that are the biggest sabotage to my diet are, at the very top of my list, 1) buddy and very little sleep 2) anxious, stress, worrying eating.  Anything else I can deal with i.e offerings of cake cue "no thank you", toddler groups and plates of biscuits "no thank you". Temptation is not the deal here.  I have no expectations for tomorrow's weigh in - its been a shit week and I'm hoping February will start dishing up some good times.

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 14:32 No comments: Links to this post Labels: Demi Moore, St Elmo's Fire 1985, The month of February


Men Folk in cake decorating shops?!

This is the equivalent of me entering a builders merchant.  The two should never meet in any circumstances.  Find the exit and leave immediately. I'd popped (I say popped but lets face it I haven't been able to 'pop' anywhere for approx 7 years) to the localish cake decorating shop with my daughter.  She was allowed to come with me on the strict instructions she was to behave herself in this tiny shop crammed with all manner of cake decorating items.

These shops can be quite overwhelming when you first start out in the mysterious world of cake decorating.  There are sprays, glitters, boarders, ribbons, plungers, cutters, embossers, levels, smoothers, turn tables, spray guns ... it goes on and on.  The women behind the counters are usually of a middle aged and upwards variety and can sniff an amateur a mile off.  Even if you know what you're talking about they still manage to make you question your approach.  Stand your ground. Do not buckle under pressure. Your cake will be just fine.  I have come to the conclusion that the money is in selling the cake supplies not the actual cake selling. This particular shop is always busy.

Anyway, the hold up was the token man in the shop. You see you don't get many men folk in cake shops and that's how I like it.  In the same way you don't get many women folk in builders merchants. I can say this as I've never proclaimed to be a feminist before the men start shouting "oh but you women want to be equal" - well this women doesn't.  That's a post for another day - its Saturday after all so lets keep it light and fluffy.

He was making a Gruffalo cake he proclaimed loudly to us all.  He was enjoying his novelty status and inexperience in cake matters. I could feel the inaudible arrhhh from the queue of ladies behind me - bless him.  The old dears behind the counter were equally impressed and proceeded to treat him like a child gently guiding him through the cake planning process.

Now as you can probably guess I didn't think arrhhh bless him. I thought you dick, grow a pair. Well maybe that's a bit harsh even by my standards. Okay it was quite nice he wanted to make a cake for his son - I'll give him that.  I like my men to be men and baking a cake doesn't do it for me. And if the ladies had initially thought what a lovely metro sexual man this was that quickly changed - cue sighs as he held up the queue for about 20 minutes.  He was hiring out 3 massive tins for this Gruffulo cake and purchasing very little brown Regalice to cover it. "I'm going to roll it out thinly".  Everyone was thinking the same thing - there's thin and there's no way that cake is getting covered you dick!

Make your way to the exit and leave immediately!

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 19:57 No comments: Links to this post Labels: Cake decorating shops, Regalice


I must write. I must write.

Is what I said to my husband in my best Shakespearean voice.  This was on the back of discovering that me and my little old blog had been crowned "blogger of the week" by BritMums.  And just to really blow my own trumpet here's the link http://www.britmumsblog.com/2012/02/britmums-blogger-of-the-week-the-1970s-diet/.

As soon as he entered the house I ran up to him like an excited school girl waving my hands above my head in a circular motion saying "guess who's blogger of the week then?" He read the review laughed and said well done.  "That's made my day that has" to which he replied "oh, so me making love to you last night hasn't but a review from an anonymous woman has - bloody charming!".  I skipped off to do the rest of the housework leaving the dejected hubster to mull over his love making techniques.

The review was written by one of  BritMums  team who has her own successful blog.   I mean I looked at her twitter account and she has approx 60,000 tweets 3,000 followers - this woman is hard core in the blogger community.  She's so hard core you can't even comment on her blog. The comment function has been switched off. How nonchalant is that!

I'm liking being described as "slightly cranky" not ranting or rage monster - slightly cranky. This sits nicely with me.  I can rant don't get me wrong and there are lots of ranty bloggers out there.  I think these days people are so bland that if you express any opinion with a bit of gusto then you get labelled a ranter.

I don't blog network that much. What I mean by that is the type of  'networking'  you have to do at work functions - suck up to people you don't know to get on. It is very similar in the blogging world. I've only been doing it for 4 months so I am, in real terms, a blogger virgin.  I belong to Mumsnet bloggers too - god knows how you get to be on their 'featured blogger' list.

In my finest Richard Gere voice (you know that classic scene in Pretty Woman) I would imagine there is "A lot of sucking up" like "major sucking up" going on. David Milliband is one of their featured bloggers for christ sake, professional writers and anyone that talks the right kind of talk.  Well that's sealed my fate as a featured blogger at any rate.

I do tweet my blog posts and tweet in the day. I subscribe to blogs and read them, follow back followers and comment on the comments.  I try and participate on the blogging sites for blogs and thoughts etc.  I have my own blogging protocol.  There is so much you can do to promote your blog it can make your head spin.  I could even have a 1970's facebook page but I haven't for obvious reasons - namely being lynched in the playground by a baying mob of late mums.

I have encouraged my friend who has been diagnosed with breast cancer to start writing and I'm happy to say she will also be joining the blogging community soon.

My aim when starting this blog was to lose weight - to reach my goal weight.  I'm glad to say it still is but I have to say I am enjoying the whole blogging experience and, of course, did I mention.....being crowned BLOGGER OF THE WEEK!!!!!
Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 14:25 8 comments: Links to this post Labels: Blogger community, Blogger of the week, blogger protocol, Britmums


Back to the Homestead

Well driving through it at any rate.  I visited my friend today armed with fabulous cupcakes made, not by me, as they were "too perfect for you to have made them"! and passed en route through my old stomping ground Crawley.  My friend lives in Horsham - she has officially arrived.  It is infinitely better than Crawley and is actually listed in the top 5 places to live in the UK.  It is very middle class, affluent and with a certain class of mummy - Phil and Ted double buggy, co-ordinating baby bags, organic snacks, ballet classes the whole shabang. You get the picture.

Now Crawley is an unremarkable town.  It does, believe it or not, date back to the Stone Age but more recently in 1946 the New Towns Act was passed and Crawley was one of the chosen few to accommodate the over spill of people in London.  Cue building the new town with ugly grey concrete buildings.  I mean Crawley College has to be the most uninspiring building to grace its presence. I did come out with an 'A' level in Law which I did in the evening though so it can't be all bad.

Having said this, as a Crawleyite, I am very proud to call Tilgate Park my own - it is free, it is wonderful for kids, has a huge lake, ducks, sprawling grounds and having been born and bred there I know where to park without paying the now £2 entrance fee.

Its not that I'm adverse to paying this its just this secret car park is very handy and I always make sure I put that money in the FREE nature reserve within its grounds. Bless this little website that the Crawley pose have produced http://www.visitcrawley.co.uk/crawleyhistory.pdf. There is also a facebook page called Crawley Happy Times!  The locals are proud and truth be known I'm quite fond of the old girl. I mean Daly Thompson came out of it and our proudest claim to fame..... The Cure. You can't ask more than that can you?

I mention this as an old school friend contacted me recently via facebook. I only have a few old school friends on facebook - 3 - as I figure if you haven't made contact in over 20 years then you weren't that fussed in the first place. I have very fond memories of her.  We were best friends in primary school (my second primary school as the first was closing down so my mum moved me) and it was a good 35/40 minute walk to get there.  I used to cycle to my friends house who lived nearer to the school than I did at weekends.  We didn't have Internet, mobiles etc in those days. It was a case of asking if you could use the phone and saying "can I come over?"

One of the great things about living in Crawley was its proximity to Gatwick airport. I remember jumping on the train (without paying of course) 2 stops to Gatwick.  It was our playground.  Some kids hang around the local shops - if you lived in Crawley you hung around Gatwick Airport.  Around the shopping village and the best bit catching the free shuttle that takes you from the North to the South terminal - hours of fun!

My friend was very creative and quieter than me and we remained best friends in secondary school (the 6th worse in West Sussex at the time - it was close to my home and there was no ofsted in those days).  I don't know how we lost contact when we left.  I think she stayed on to 6th form and I went the grey concrete building of Crawley College and then went on to the dizzy heights of banking and beyond. She went off to work on the Guardian newspaper - get in!

We used to have a detective club (just the 2 of us mind) we made up ID cards and would randomly follow people on the street. See what happens when you don't have modern technology. We also had a dance troupe (3 in total including us) where we would perform to the assembly in primary school.  I got t-shirts from the market and sewed on sequins with the numbers 1,2 &3. We were like a condensed version of the band 5 Star. Of course, I bagged number 1 - prime position.  We did some fabulous numbers Sister Sledge - Frankie, Its raining men and Freedom on roller skates.

I wonder what makes people reminisce about others, anyway I'm glad she did as like the Crawley facebook page claims they were "happy times"

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 20:53 No comments: Links to this post Labels: Crawley, Crawley College, Crawley Happy Times, Gatwick airport, Horsham Mums, The Cure, Tilgate Park


Super Trouper

The deed has been done. I've pur-chased the Abba Wii dance.  I don't ordinarily buy stuff from shops - you know my thoughts on internet shopping (there's no other way to shop) but it so happened that it caught my eye whilst I was darting through Sainsbury's today.  I threw it in my basket without a second thought.

My battery was dead AGAIN today.  Damm you Kia Sedona - you sound all exotic but if you were a holiday destination you would be Benidorm not the Maldives or somewhere equally beautiful.  So I thought I'll take the bus. I live on the bus route. No - I mean I literally live on the bus route. So with buddy most unimpressed with having to take another trip out in the cold I dug out my oyster card.  It worked - I have no idea how much is on the thing (I don't often use the bus - only occasionally as a treat for the kids they love it up to the high street and back) the green light came up that's all that matters!

Its snowing mildly at this point. My boys don't do the cold - my daughter is made of much sterner stuff and loves it.  My to do list was in order of the location of the shops. Yes I am that anal.  I have to be when you have a toddler you know you have max 1 hour 30 minutes to complete your mission. I did it all within the hour including bus journey (which is 5 mins in fairness).

I dropped in my engagement ring which now needs to be made bigger to accommodate my eternity and wedding ring.  The old boy must think here comes that Muppet again!  Or maybe just chi ching bling bling and all that.

Anyway, last stop was Sainsbury's and that's where Abba came into my day.  I also saw one of the mum's from pre-school and her weekly shop came to £175! I was listening and watching. There wasn't anything spectacular going into the shopping trolley.  Maybe she's got stacks of cash.  I really wanted to say to her listen luv you could have got all that for less than half if you just walked a few yards to Aldi.

To cut a long story which should be far shorter as I'm going up for a bath - the kids put on Abba to have a go tonight and this song came on.  I used to love this song (1980 I believe) its probably my favourite Abba track and I'm not an Abba groupie or anything but I just know I'm going to enjoy dancing to this.

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 21:42 2 comments: Links to this post Labels: Abba Wii dance, Kia Sedona, travelling by bus


Favour or imposition?

You decide. Today I was put on the spot. Caught off guard.  Stitched up like a kipper.  Not sure where that phrase comes from probably something to do with stripping the guts of the fish and sewing it up again.  If that is correct then this phrase is most apt.

Firstly I was asked what I was doing next Wednesday (half term week) - I momentarily racked my brains.  This wasn't good.  This wasn't going to have a happy ending. Think woman - think! Yes, yes I do actually  have something we have a family dental check up at 10.30 am. Tah dah.  With no time to breath a sigh of relief came the words "Oh that's good can I ask a huge favour"?  This is front of a small gathering - a circle gathering no less of other parents. I am in that circle. I had one eye on the person asking me the favour and the other watching little buddy darting across snow, up the wooden climbing frame and generally looking for an escape route out of the school grounds.

"Can you look after my two for about 2 - 2 1/2 hours" - I'll be at work and hubby will also - he will collect them when he's finished.  "Ok so they'll need their tea" "yes".  She didn't want to pay for childcare for only 2 hours of the day so I was the ideal candidate. I don't work after all. I did mutter something along the lines of "oh yes I'd love to have 5 children to take care of".  Somehow I agreed to it and I instantly felt annoyed about that.

Now don't get me wrong my son is very good friends with the child in question and his sibling is in my daughter's class. That's the not the issue.  As another mum pointed out half terms are precious.  Its only a week and whilst I have booked the dentist and a craft session at our local Surestart centre - the rest of the week is unplanned and just how I like it.  The little fella is also 21 months going on 2 - the terrible two's. Its called that for a reason.  He is into everything and the thought of having 5 children running riot in my house for 2 1/2 hours plus getting my husbands tea ready and the children's tea filled me with dread.  I haven't had teatime play dates for that very reason - at the moment its just too much agro.  I don't think many mums would want to have my 2 plus my 21 month old over for tea in addition to their own children do you?

This person has never once asked me in for coffee and whilst we have occasionally met up for a play date in the summer hols and xmas hols its rare. I've picked up their child to take to a party and vice versa.  I have also had the children over for a night as they were stuck.  So I have helped out even though the relationship isn't that close.  In fact I'm pretty sure the person doesn't even like me!  This is just someone I know because our children go to the same school not someone I know because they want to forge a friendship with me.

Then there's the tumbleweed moments when she comes out with a comment that is supposed to be funny and everyone goes quiet. Its normally followed by "only joking".  For example on a windy day in the playground I was pregnant and minding my own business she said "hold on a minute (stood behind me) I can use you as a windbreak!" I mean who would say that! She would.  Another time she pipes up "oh bad mother" when one who clearly was stressed with her young ones hadn't got any snacks to pacify them. That's the thing when you have children you get to hang around with people you wouldn't ordinarily chose to spend time with.

I am aware they now (they did previously) have no childcare and I don't want to be taking on that role just because I don't work. I feel I have to nip this in the bud. Don't get me wrong I have no qualms whatsoever looking after my close friends and family's children over night or whatever they need to help them out.  I know they would do the same for me but that's not why I do it. I do it because I want to. I don't do favours and bank them for future favour cash ins.

So I sent a text to say sorry actually I couldn't have them.  Explained the little fella was a nightmare at the mo hence no tea time play dates and incidentally my best friend has breast cancer and her op is that day.  I got no reply for 5 hours and have just received one saying that's fine, hope my friend is okay and see you tomorrow.


Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 22:35 2 comments: Links to this post 

Strike a Pose..

... there's nothing to it said Madonna.  I have been toying with the idea of having some professional snaps done once I've reached my goal weight and given that I'm still on the right side of 40.  I do like to move the goal posts - when I'm into my 40's I'll be saying I'm on the right side of 45 - it will continue like this for many years to come.

I really like the work of this lady http://www.imagexperience.com/ she does an 'intimately yours' range of photography- in short stripping down to your undies or just plain stripping down.  Whilst I have little doubt the pictures (because of the photographer not me the model) would be great - I've never been that partial to the professional snap.  Even our family portrait (pre buddy) is a Pop Art, Andy Warhol inspired picture of us - its my profile pic on this blog.  Although these days portraits are 'natural' I still find them a bit contrived.   Albeit a 'natural' contrived photo.

Do you remember the little leaflets you used to get in magazines for a make over photo shoot? The picture of the heavily made up lady with a feather boa around her neck. Her face all misty and fuzzy - there's no need for that now we have airbrushing. I know make over shoots have come a long way since the one I have just described but what would I do with the photos afterwards?  As I age would I think "oh look at me" - cue depression or would be glad I was captured at a certain juncture in my life?  I'm not, by and large, a vain person. Some people have them done and you think christ you look nothing like that! You know the facebook profile picture and then you see the person in the cold light of day.  I've done a few double takes with certain people I can tell you!
Or maybe I should just do it for a bit of fun and not think too much about it.  It would be a celebration of my weight loss and fitness journey.

I do have lots of photos.  I like to do my own collages and have lots of them in the downstairs loo.  My children have their whole lives caught on camera and video - I wonder how they will feel about this when they're older.  Will they think its weird that anyone born pre 1990 didn't have a photo taken of  them for almost every occasion no matter how big or small.  I don't think I've ever seen a picture of me before the age of 3 - people just didn't take pictures back then like we do now.

So something to consider. Now then where's my feather boa......
Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 21:24 No comments: Links to this post Labels: Andy Warhol, make over, Photo shoot, Pop Art, www.imagexperience.com


-2lb.  I've lost 1st 5 lbs (19lbs) since the last week of October. So I'm 13 stone so close so close to being in the 12's which I'm very excited about.  I did bring it back from the brink last week as what with the cold I didn't really feel like exercising but I did on Thursday, Saturday and Sunday and felt so much better for it.  I'd gone a week prior to that without any as hadn't been feeling great.

Food wise I can still do better and be stricter.  I know that a lot of people would lose this weight a lot quicker but to be honest I couldn't care less. I'm only interested in my weight loss journey.  Only recently someone posted on Facebook that they had lost a stone in 2 weeks by using diet pills and was raving about them.  I can honestly say I would rather be fat than take diet pills, drink slim fast shakes, detox plans or anything of that nature. Its not healthy or sustainable and I have no interest in it whatsoever.  Once people stop any radical diet they put the weight straight back on.

I do set myself mini-goals I did plan on being in the 12's mid January. But I don't get over disappointed I won't stop until I reach my limit.  Ideally I would have liked that to be Spring but it doesn't matter if its Summer or even if it takes me till October to get to 10 stone 5 lbs.

I had a rough night with the little fella he threw up again (over hubster too!) in the night after not being able to breathe at all well - like an asthma attack.  He eventually started to breath normally after an hour and slept with us for a bit before I put him back in his cot.  I think the room in his bedroom was too warm - the central heating has been on until we go to bed we need to switch it off at 8pm like we normally do. We have a fire for the front room for the evening.

So plans for this week are to continue improving with being strict with no chocolate, biscuits, cakes, crips.  I also plan on being hungry between each meal.

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 09:24 2 comments: Links to this post 


Back into the groove with the exercise.  I think I  went a week without exercising (I'd have to check my log) but it wasn't much I know that.  I was a bit poorly and other things cropped up etc.  But this week I did the Wii dance without weights which I found easy - I had anticipated that it would be hard work but I was glad to see my fitness levels didn't deplete after going AWOL with the exercise.

Its easier to sit and eat comfort food in this weather isn't it?  But its not that difficult to go upstairs put on your workout gear, head back downstairs and start dancing.  I'm lecturing myself here by the way! Whilst its easy to get out of the habit of exercising its also very easy to get back into it. You just have to keep reminding yourself that Spring (and April in this country seems to be the hottest month for some reason - we've had a few shit summers I can tell you) is only around the corner. You'll be able to take your winter coat off and display the new you.

I've just done the Wii dance with my wrist weights and feel great.  I think this weather is the perfect weather to exercise. I mean if we ever have a hot summer we'll all be moaning that its too hot to do anything won't we.  Most people have exercise dvd's, a wii or an x-box - it sure keeps you warm and you can even turn the heating off. I had no sleep last night - I 'slept' with the little fella as he's a bit poorly with a cold and what not. I don't know what it is with me and no sleep but the next day I have so much energy. I had an early hairdressers appointment (9.15), cooked the hubster his bacon and eggs, cleared up, made the kids 'retro' cup cakes (that's what I'm calling the ones with icing sugar and sprinkles).

Right I'm off for a shower and to sort out the mess that my son has created by attempting to do his 'gross science' on my kitchen table!

Have a wonderful Saturday night!

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 14:47 No comments: Links to this post 

A difficult post

Yesterday I learnt that my oldest, dearest, closest, trusted, and whilst a term which seems more applicable to my 5 year old daughter my best friend has Breast Cancer.

Its there in black and white. Its a fact. Its a bolt out of the blue.  The possibility to the reality has taken a week.  My friend discovered a lump 3 weeks ago went to the doctors who wrote "urgent suspected breast cancer" at the top of a fax.  The doctor didn't intend for her to see this. My friend, in typical under statement of the century fashion, thought to herself "oh marvellous".  That's all I need.

A week later (yesterday) she's having a mammogram and biopsy and told that the results will be 5 days.  She's called back in that day to be told she has breast cancer.  She had a bad feeling. I had a bad feeling. That bad feeling was confirmed when she saw the MacMillan nurse standing next to the doctor. Between tears and laughter on the telephone (yes strange but we can always make light of a bad situation) I said "how did you know it was a MacMillan nurse did she have a huge badge with the words on it?" cue laughter to which she replied "no but she had tea and sympathy written all over her face"!
So now we have to wait and see what grade it is - by all accounts there are 3 with 1 being the best and 3 being the worse.  I've learnt a lot about breast cancer in a matter of hours.

My friend is naturally upset, scared, angry - why me? So many emotions and worries for the future.  We chatted today and one bit of good news, if you can call it that, is that trusted critical illness policy looks set to pay out and in her own words "I'll be bloody pissed off if I go and that mortgage has been paid off and I don't get to enjoy that".  As you've probably gathered by now this lady is a fighter - she was a Girl Guide Leader after all and can read a map! A skill I have yet to master.

I was, in any event, going to write about my friend when the blogger community were looking for blogs to promote breast cancer  http://www.breakthrough.org.uk/.  To write about a woman in your life was the brief. It just so happens that between the time of me thinking must write that blog post and getting round to doing it (a week)  the very friend I was going to talk about now has breast cancer.


So what of my friend. We met when we were both 17 at college. The dizzy heights of Secretarial college. We are very different in many ways which is probably why we have remained very close friends for such a long time.  We have had many a wild time - drinking, partying, holidays, passed driving tests, boyfriends have come and they have gone. We have lived together, we have been arrested together (Crete long story we were innocent of any wrong doing!), we have travelled Europe back packing together (the map reading was invaluable), brought flats, brought houses, done up houses, got married, had children at the same time.
I mean every life event you can think of - we've done it side by side. Ups and downs. Highs and lows. The one thing that has remained constant is us. And now we have an illness to contend with and contend we will.

And what makes her so special? She's kind, caring, thoughtful, funny, giving, sensitive, strong, reliable, dependable, trustworthy.  Of course we've had disagreements along the way - no shouting matches or anything like that. Its not our style.  Normally I've said (percentage wise I'm probably the starter) or she's said something to offend. Its more often than not something so insignificant. For example when I was pregnant she said "thank you for the dinner I see you cooked something simple" I took umbrage to this maybe the hormones I don't know but it pissed me off.  I've equally pissed her off with throw away comments more recently "oh I see you're doing the hard sell" on her Neals Yard Organic range.  We normally have little communication for a few days and the matter is forgotten about.  So hardly hard core stuff - little bits and bobs a few times a year.  But I always say to her but isn't that great that we are such good friends we can fall out.  That's a sign of true friendship. She just laughs and says if you say so!

﻿﻿﻿﻿Well I also say that we'll get through this.

Please have a look at the links I've posted and thanks for listening.﻿﻿

Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 18:01 11 comments: Links to this post Labels: Breakthough.org.uk, breast cancer, MacMillan Nurse, pinkribbonbingo.com, www


When to throw in the towel?

I'm guessing never?  No, I don't have any desire to stop my dieting and exercise.  I've set myself the target of 10 stone 5lbs and I am determined to reach it.  I'm talking about when, as women, we can throw in the towel. Say that's it, game over, I'm done with all of this. I'm going to let myself go.  Wouldn't that be lovely - to just not bother about weight, ageing and the like.  How liberating would that be - its never going to happen though is it.  Even your most irritating "we should be equal blah blah" feminists out there will still be trotting off to get their roots done, to please themselves of course, not for any man whose bollocks they probably chopped off on route to the hairdressers.

I was discussing this at yesterday's playgroup. For my toddler not for me you understand but maybe there is a market for a playgroup for adults where you do exactly what you want  for 2 hours and then go home. At what age is it acceptable to throw in the towel? When can you say I'm not dying my hair anymore (thankfully I don't have to as yet - its just a waiting game), when can the diets end, when can you just not bother anymore? Woman maintenance gets harder the older you get. There are things that didn't even occur to you in your 20's but now you have to think about all these little things just to be presentable.

When I was working out last week (I've had a full week off exercise - which resumes today) to the biggest loser doing burpees and dancing with wrist weights I though "what an earth are you doing" you're nearly 40 and your prancing around doing all of this. I'm too old for this shit - its a young persons game. Of course I know its a necessity and its my own fault for over indulging for the 3rd time whilst pregnant but I remember when my nan was this age and that generation looked old at this age.  They were wearing the little flat shoes with laces, A line skirts and their hair was grey.  I remember my nan wishing her grey was like my grandad's all lovely and silver not a dull grey.

The sad thing is she was never fat she was lovely and curvy.   She was forever dieting or at weight watchers. I believe the last time was in her late 50's/early 60's - she'd written in her diary her starting weight of 10 stone 10 - she was about 5ft 3in I think.

She died aged 62 of stomach cancer. She'd left it too late to catch it in time as she never wanted to trouble the doctor.  My grandad hadn't even retired (he was 2 years younger).  But I shall always remember visiting her in their bedroom prior to her transfer to the local hospice.  She said to my 12 year old self that it was bloody typical that the only time she loses weight is when she's got cancer.  She told me to take some money out of her purse for some new tights but I didn't want to. I don't know why - I said oh don't worry. Stupid really - she knew she was dying. I knew she was dying. But I didn't want to take any money off of her.

The last time I saw her she told me to eat the Marks and Spencers prawn mayo sandwiches that the hospice had come round with as "they're not cheap Marks".  I watched as she threw them up - she died shortly afterwards.

So I don't want to be dieting, exercising, worrying about wrinkles and all the stuff that in the grand scheme of things really doesn't matter and certainly not on my death bed.  Whether that will ever happen I don't know but lets hope one day I can throw in the towel!
Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 13:02 2 comments: Links to this post Labels: ageing, woman maintenance


Tits up Tuesday

I don't do shit Tuesdays but if I did......(I am assuming you all know the Carlsberg advert - if you don't then my current favourite saying is wasted on you all).  No one died, we're all in relative good health asides from the normal aches and pains one starts to get on the wrong side of 35.  So nothing major bit like when people say they're "depressed" when actually they're a bit fed up.

I missed waving my daughter (it was only a mini trip to the garden centre so nothing major) off on her school trip after saying goodbye to my son in the junior playground.  I threw buddy into the buggy, a light weight I am discovering with the cold, and ran up the school hill to see the coach depart.  Drat number one.  Upon walking home I noticed the children had made dog poo posters to go along the fencing that boarders the school.  I was so busy admiring them that I narrowly missed the very stuff they were moaning about.

And moan they should too.  Its awful. I'm not an animal lover I have to say.  I wouldn't go so far as to say I would exterminate all dogs and cats but I do have very little time for them. Dogs lick their balls before licking your face, if you let them, cats are sly and shit in my garden.  It always amazes me that people would stop if they saw a injured dog or cat in the road but if it were a real person they would be quiet happy to put the foot down on the accelerator and drive around them.  I even had Battersea dogs home knock on my door at 5pm once.  As I was walking towards the front door the man child clearly heard me say "you are having a larf aren't you"! as when I opened the door he said "its okay" and scurried away.  That's another post for another day charities knocking on you door at tea time.  On the way to school I'm constantly giving dog poo avoidance directions to my kids.

Enter Drat number 2 - car battery dead! Great - was all set for the Aldi shop. So waited for the breakdown guy who was very quick and charged it up and off he went on his merry way.  Now my day was all out of sync - I have a schedule don't you know! I also broke the eggs (not as bad as the port and wine - when will I learn not to overload the weeks shop on the buggy from the car down the garden?) and lost the receipt for my wedding ring which was being re-sized. I had played out a scene in my head if the old boy who always repairs my jewellery (theme going on here - I  break things - that is me) wouldn't release my ring without a receipt, thankfully that didn't happen. We, instead, exchanged dead car battery stories and I went on my not so merry way.

Later it was the Valentine's disco (yes I know 31st January but the PTA is another blog post altogether on which I am a member although my voice is loud it doesn't get heard!) and my daughter loses her little money bag - only £6 but some other child had picked it up and given it to her Grandad who promptly walked home with it.  I did get it back but not before I had slagged him off rotten along the lines of "who would do such a thing" "are people that hard up they have to steal children's piggy banks" "if he's that hard up I will round it up to a tenner and give him a note" to anyone that would listen.  I blame the girl I'm sure she was going to pocket her findings later as she did look mighty sheepish when I said can I have my daughter's money back! The Grandad was the innocent party in all of this.

So nothing major - just everyday irritating things that pissed me off on Tits up Tuesday!
Posted by Natasha the 1970s diet at 20:40 No comments: Links to this post Labels: dog poo The 1970s Diet Follow @The1970sDiet Visit The 1970s Diet's profile on Pinterest.