One day, when the timing was right, supporting structures formed and new growth burst out. I am a tree.

Just as my children have grown several centimetres in the last few months, I have grown too in my mind and in my heart.

I thought as a mum of a soon-to-be teenager that I was past significant growth and was at a stage of fine-tuning and practising my core beliefs, but recently I have surprised myself with what I have learnt.

1. reframing my fears

We got a dog, Biscuit. A dog I say. This is big news because I’ve walked around my WHOLE life saying ‘I’m a cat person’. Despite a few childhood memories of being scared by big woofy dogs, I do like some dogs so I could say I was a ‘certain dog person’, but never having had a dog I didn’t really understand them and I think subconsciously it was easier to say ‘I’m a cat person’ rather than ‘I’m a gentle, small or big, furry animal that sits on me, and one that I’m not jumpy around person’.

Biscuit is a therapy dog so his nature and nurture makes him inherently gentle – he curls up on my lap or by my feet, just like I have experienced with cats – he just doesn’t purr. I actually call him a cog (cat-dog in case you don’t get it). ‘I’m a cog person’ might be harder to explain though 😉

I hid behind a wall of cats for years, it was easier to protect and defend than risk trying something new. Having ‘are you scared of big dogs?’ in anxiety questionnaires was also perhaps self-fulfilling. Reframing the fear away from dogs showed me the power of the mind and how we can change our thinking and open doors to wonderful situations. Biscuit is wonderful.

2. acceptance that I have ADHD

Yes I am aware that I have adhd, yes I talk about it, yes I read all about it (all the *^*^ing time), but I didn’t truly and fully accept it until last month.

Acceptance of having adhd is complex (of course it is, adhd is!), but it’s not just about accepting the label or the explanation for weird life behaviours, the acceptance I’m talking about is holistic, practical and not what I ever envisioned for myself.

ADHD is a condition (disability in some countries) and although it is in me, it is so much more than me, it is something that I cannot control on my own, I need the help of others. Who wants to admit that they need the help of others in order to be themselves? Not me. Well not me in the past. But with acceptance I am ok to admit it. I have to admit it. I need people.

My acceptance came from talking with my psychologist and has led me to realise I need to allow other supports (medication, psychology, family, work) to fulfil their specific roles so that I can burst! I think when I got the diagnosis, followed by the meds and the psychologist, that I took my foot off the pedal and expected things to just get better for me. Perhaps I just needed a break from putting in ALL the effort myself via coping and masking strategies, and so once these supports came along I relied on these things only.

I know that I still have to put the work in to get organised and reduce overwhelm – pills and 50 min chats don’t magically make a pretty bullet journal. With acceptance of needing a wider network, I acknowledge that I am my own expert, my own advocate, I know what works and what doesn’t. I thought my old self was wrong, inefficient, too weird, but I realise that I don’t have to let go of pre-diagnosis me, I should continue to employ the strategies I’ve had my whole life, just in conjunction with the professionals.

I know the combination will enable me to be more efficient, but I also know I will never ever EVER be ‘normal’ or neurotypical, never. I will never fit in, or be able to do what others can do with ease, or be able to do some things at all. Last year I grieved my unmet potential, but now I’m happy with what I have done and what I can still do. Acceptance means that my goal is now realistic. I aim to be me.

3. I had growth (and more importantly others had growth) when I started to back off.

This came from realising that I am only one person for my children, that I am not their everything,

Just as I need multiple supports so do they. They have to work this life thing out for themselves. They have to make their own mistakes (or learnings as we call them).

I have been guilty of being a classic helicopter parent, because for some reason I didn’t want my kids to be like me, and if I could stop the milk being spilt I would – so I swooped in. But my desire to help them was potentially doing the opposite, it was suppressing their growth. Not anymore!

Lucky they are still young enough to adapt to their way of doing things but if I can adapt and grow at 46yrs old then they will be more than fine.

So, there you go, my mind is bigger and stronger than a few months ago; my heart too, for Biscuit and for my children’s futures. And it all happened because it just happened. It was timing. It was meant to be (I just needed some supports to help me realise it).

Green shoots forever!

Love Stripes and Trees xxx

Seeing the creation of a stripy cookie in a 30sec reel on Insta made me feel like ‘I can do that!’.

Miss 12 and I prepped the kitchen bench, questioned the volume of flour (3.5cups, really?!?), we used hand muscles we didn’t know were in our hands, we used more cooking gloves than an octopus would need (so as to not mix light and dark dough), we tasted the dough (‘hmm, very floury’ was our joint conclusion), and we considered adapting the recipe to meet our taste (vanilla extract was suggested – high school food-tech has been amazing for Rose), but alas we stuck to the instructions. It promised good results.

The outcome was two oven trays of ‘very floury stripy cookies’. Master 8 took one bite and ran to the bin and spat it out – a dreadful sign. We were disappointed but we laughed. We had such a great time making them.

We didn’t want to waste our efforts and all that bleeping flour, so the batch sat in a tub with lid firmly on for the rest of the day. The pile did not go down.

Day two however had our curiosity sending us back to the tub and having a nibble. We individually came to the conclusion that day two the cookies tasted sweeter, even Master 8.

Day three – they tasted even better.

Day four – all gone.

A good outcome but a rollercoaster of emotions over several days. The immediacy of results (via sped up videos) and the promise of perfection (via edited videos) certainly warped our expectations. Why do I fall for these tricks, time and time again? They have simply become normalised. Even the existence of #nofilter is testament to that. I’m probably naïve (although I’d rather say authentic), and I don’t expect trickery…I just expect the real deal. Maybe I need to change my expectations…I think I’ve said this many (many) times before in this blog.

So, ‘would I could I should I?’ have entered the stripy cookie challenge with ‘no’ expectations? No way.

Yes it is true to say that expectations were not met. Well, not met immediately at least (I like to think our stripes were actually very stripy, perfect in fact 👌). But I wouldn’t have gone into this with nothing…with no expectations. I’m glad for the unexpected learnings:

⁃ the experience challenged us (ouch my sore hands)

⁃ it made us think (what would make this flour-bomb taste better?)

⁃ it bonded us (oh how we laughed..and still do)

⁃ it helped us to be mindful and think about what we were tasting (flour yes, but also what was beyond that…and how the sweetness developed over the days)

⁃ it taught us resilience (we had a goal in mind and that kept us going, even when our cookies kept cracking)

⁃ it taught us patience (instead of wolfing the whole lot down in one afternoon…and then having regret over an empty plate and full tummy)

⁃ it taught us not to be wasteful (we were tempted to bin them at one point (perhaps the Alfred-rejection moment) but we chose to keep them…)

⁃ it taught us to be happy with the journey (not necessarily the Instagram-worthy end result)

So how do we know we are doing the right thing? We don’t!

We simply do what we do and we learn as we go. It’s ok to be disappointed, in fact it’s really important.

I wouldn’t have changed a thing about this experience – and I couldn’t have asked for a better cooking partner or taste tester. We did all agree that there will not be another batch any time soon though, that is the right thing to do!

Love Stripes & Trees xxx

The morning run didn’t happen (kids slow to school); the lunchtime run didn’t happen (neither did eating); the 2pm run didn’t happen (another meeting got squeezed in).

At 5.15pm as I sat at my wfh desk, in my pristine activewear that hadn’t moved more than 100m all day, I noticed the light starting to fade and I realised it was now or never. So I decided to go for a run.

Not only did I physically move my body after a hard day’s slog, but I put my senses to work too…

– my eyes had to look hard for the dips that I knew were lurking in the grass but could barely see in this low light;

– my ears were hearing my usual tunes, but also to my heart beating (I’m still a little bit afraid of the dark and I think I ran extra fast just to get home!)

– my skin wasn’t quite as hot as when I go in the daytime (don’t get me wrong, I still had a red beetroot running face, but I cooled off quicker).

– my nose was expecting to snaffle up the smell of horse poo (I ran around the edge of a racecourse), but it just wasn’t there…I now know it is stronger in the morning (just in case you wanted to you 😉 )

Had I not gone running at this time I would not have seen these beautiful tree silhouettes 💜

It wasn’t my favourite run, but I was so glad to finally move after a day of sitting, especially sitting in disappointment every time my chance to run was snapped away.

My body moved and my mind moved too. Here’s what I learnt:

1. doing the same thing differently leads to new thought processes – der, so simple, I knew this but didn’t really think about it much before or how easy it is to actually achieve!

2. planning often leads to disappointment when other things get in the way. Something else I knew, it realistically we do need some plans…so I walked away (ran away) telling myself that I would lower my expectations.

3. there is no perfect time. There is just time. Seize the moment even if conditions aren’t what you hoped for.

4. our senses are amazing and I perhaps take them for granted. Giving my senses a chance to adapt was so grounding. I really felt them working and it made me feel alive.

5. wearing active gear all day made me feel sad, sitting there hoping. It was handy to be ready, but at my desk I should have been focused on working not thinking of running. I really need to work harder at doing one thing at a time, really paying attention to individual tasks and not using the reward of things I really love to get me through the less interesting things (Ha…my adhd brain is really laughing at me right now!)

Over and out for another week. Whatever your ‘it’ is, try switching it up…your senses will thank you.

Love Stripes & Trees xxx