Envy & Jelousy...

How do I begin to speak of these sinister twins? They are alike and yet not, the same, but different. They certainly cause havoc and untold misery, for the sufferers; and those who are ambushed by envious people.

Jealousy…it even has an ominous sort of hissing sound to it. It brings to mind the typical ‘green eyed monster,’ or even a big, black snake. After all, it is considered one of the seven deadly sins, right up there with murder, gluttony, stealing and the rest. And yet, each and every one of us, is guilty of it, at some stage of our lives!

I have been guilty of envy and jealousy over the years. The two are inseparable. My feeling is envy is the small, wiry, ugly looking one who goes ahead of his bigger, even uglier counterpart. His job description is to whisper words of discontentment and misery, into the ears of the target. That way, the once happy, otherwise content person begins to murmur and compare him/herself to his friends, family, neighbors. In this day and age, it’s a question of ‘keeping up with the Jones’, Smiths, Joe Soaps…whoever. Once the seed has been sown, and firmly taken root, jealousy appears on the scene, all shifty eyed and deceitful. He then points out everything that is lacking in the target’s life. Looks, status, athletic ability, artistic ability, career, education, spouse, children, (or in some cases lack of children and spouse). The list goes on….house, car, neighbourhood, dog or relevant pet, boat, plane, jet-ski, flat screen TV, entertainment system, play station, laptop. My goodness, I could go on forever with the list, but I’m sure by now you get the point?

Once all those thoughts are firmly embedded in the target’s brain, everything and I mean everything, begins to look worn out tatty! The wife/husband, the house, car, furniture, TV, career, looks, status…it all starts to wilt, under the stern, penetrating magnifying glass of discontent. How sad! Of course, by now ‘envy and jealousy’ have slithered back to their dark lair, having finished their assignment. And, they can rest easy, as they know full well, their work will have the desired ripple effect. Because, hot on the heels is their small, weasel like cousin, called ‘gossip.’ Now he is small, but far from insignificant, he’s cunning and ambitious, and knows how to do his job with polished skill. He begins to talk to the target, about all the people who need to hear that particular person’s discontent. As a result, the target goes out to visit his/her friends and family. They are all drawn unwittingly into a gossip feast, where they too begin to find fault with their lives. Suddenly, the day turns dark, from sunshine and roses to dismal and dreary.

The change is so well disguised; they don’t for a minute attribute it to said unhappy camper. Instead, they begin to fervently believe what they have been told, and like well controlled puppets, they in turn visit their circle of unsuspecting victims and so the pollution continues.

I will be completely honest, when I tell you exactly, when and how I was visited by this nasty pair. The first time, I was around eight years old. I was passionate about athletics; and had won the one hundred meter sprint on many occasions. I was in the team, so I thought I had it made, until a bigger, faster, more competitive girl joined the team. Well, I was utterly consumed with envy. I was furious, I had my position usurped. Walking up to the podium; and standing in the second place was nothing less than agonizing! My little heart broke, and I am ashamed to say, I had hateful thoughts towards that poor little girl.

Only later on in life, once I had been blessed with two little girls of my own, and I found my eldest child Rebecca, to be a keen, talented athlete did I learn a hard lesson. Only then, in hindsight, did I realize the error of my ways. She too was the champion runner for three years in a row, until she switched schools. Now, she comes in second and I have watched her cry agonizing, heartbreaking tears of shame, anger and envy. But, I teach her the importance of running for the joy of it. There is an art to learning how to grow through losing; and consequently being a ‘good loser.’ I encourage her to bless; and congratulate the winning girl. She must use the opportunity to stretch herself. She finds it hard, but she is slowly catching on. Now, she’s latched onto Hockey and is very good at it! She scores countless goals and is the new champ. Of course, I am exceptionally proud, because she is a diabetic on top of it.

The second time I tasted the acid of envy and jealousy, was when I was twelve. I had a best friend I loved dearly, until a second girl joined out threesome and I was ousted. Thrown away like an old discarded box, or so I thought, because that’s how it felt. I never really got over that; and I still feel the sting of rejection, when a close friend hurts me. I use the term ‘best friend’ very loosely, and encourage my daughters to have lots of ‘best friends.’ Not only will it potentially safeguard them from getting hurt, but I have explained how they too can hurt others. It takes years of dedicated and loyal input and investment, before I label anyone a ‘best friend.’ To this day, my best friends are counted on one hand, and most of them go way back into my past, some even twenty years or so.

I was also ambushed by envy and jealously throughout my teenage years. Young love snuffed out ruthlessly by a more attractive, pretty, sexy girl. Having my heart broken a few times in that cruel manner, was enough to put me off love for a lifetime! Until I found the proverbial Prince Charming! I could have written the book ‘Princess and the Frog,’ as I have unknowingly kissed many frogs, who turned out to be just frogs anyway.

To hell with Prince Charming! I would imagine him riding gallantly, through the lush meadows on his white steed, with his coiffed hair standing stiff in the wind… But no, stop the movie...revind to the frog infested, stinking swamp...to where the bloated, lazy, stupid toads live, complete with their limp handshakes,smarmy smiles and crocodile skin briefcases. Toads tend to always have wide grins and fat, flabby lips, don’t they?

When my second child was born deathly ill and we almost lost her, I was pounced on by envy and jealousy once again. Reason being, I couldn’t go home with my precious baby, like all other the mothers. For the first ten days, whilst Gabriella’s little life was hanging by a delicate thread, I had watched her linked up to all the machines, ventilator, heart monitor etcetera! I cried angry, lonely, bitter tears, purely because I couldn’t hold her for longer than an hour, to breastfeed her. But, I was truly blessed! She did recover completely, and I must tell you, I was a very proud Mum, the day I walked out of that hospital with my baby girl in my arms. I was walking on air and jealousy and envy, had no choice but to huddle in the shadows like wiped puppies.

One thing I have learnt over the years, is the best way to deal with those pesky monsters is to be thankful, and grateful, always looking for the wonderful blessing you do have, and refusing to go ‘ghost hunting’ for the things you don’t possess.

It wasn’t long after that, when my husband and I went through one of the most difficult patches in our marriage. My husband’s business partner absconded with all our money, after a business deal turned sour. He was an incredibly slick, intelligent con man. He had done his homework, had all the signed paperwork and we were pulled in hook, line and sinker. To cut a long story short, to robbed us of all our money, we had to sell our house and we were left heartbroken, stripped, bereft, gob smacked and ashamed. We limped through those years, like cripples through a minefield. We were very wary to trust anyone completely. Our trust in humanity was shattered. It was an incredibly lonely, desperate and hurtful time. Friends and family were few; people can be so cruel at times like these. Always very quick to ‘kick a dog when it’s down’…I truly learnt the full meaning of these words.

I am pleased to say we weren’t down there in the gutter for too long. Our kids inspired us to keep going, and reach for the stars. I find the stars they call to you, and twinkle so much brighter, when you have further to climb. So, we started again. With God’s help and the support of a few faithful friends and family, we eventually recovered. The difficult part though, was envy and jealousy was always hiding in the shadows.

Without fail, every time a friend proudly showed us their new house, I was gripped with those awful emotions. I would smile and nod and serenely say I was "so happy for them," but the truth was I felt like I had been stabbed through the heart! Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that I didn’t truly feel pleased for that particular friend; it was just that it hurt so badly. The loss of losing our own home and the envy and jealousy I felt because they now had a home, was just overwhelming. It took many years for me to process these emotions and conquer them. But now, after many years in the boxing ring with those two hefty fellows, they don't have power over me anymore. I genuinely, sincerely am pleased, when someone succeeds at buying a property, especially in today’s current market.

Well, God is never really finished with us is He? Just when I thought I had gone through enough ‘character building’ boot camps, I was hit by another low flying curve ball. This one hit me full in the face...Wham baam, thank you Mam! It flawed me, decked me in fact. I was left bleeding and unconscious for many months. I have only recently come out of the coma and am still struggling to come to terms with the loss.

As some of you know, my eldest daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. So now, the great big ‘envy and jealousy’ heavy weights were pushed into the ring. The two are of a completely different caliber and they get you where it hurts most, through my children. Their strategy is to point out to me how terrible it is to have a sick child, and how envious and green with envy I am of those who have healthy children. Now just how terrible is that? This is something that has been a journey of sorts, as the frustrating thing is that I normally notice the people I am jealous of are a particular type. The ones that have everything, material possessions, financial security, and healthy, happy, secure and intelligent children….and yet, all they ever do is complain! They mutter about their children, how difficult they are, how annoying their devoted husbands are, and so it goes on.

So my friends, that in a nutshell is my latest challenge. How do I deal with these two heavy weights you ask? I remind them that the very people they are painting as poisonous, are in fact, just naïve and immature. They haven’t been smacked around by those curve balls as much. And, then I tell them to leave me alone and remember that I now know the difference. I may have lost my healthy child, but my sick child is so brave, courageous and inspiring. And, on top of it all, those poor souls I have envied need my help, support and advice. They have someone like me who have been there before them and can say, ‘wake up…count your blessings and be grateful. Celebrate every day with your darling children, don’t ever take anyone for granted, and that is where you will find peace and happiness. And that is where I find harmony and contentment.

I am walking in a beautiful, happy, sunny, garden, where the sun shines and the birds serenade. The best part of all, envy and jealously can’t survive in the light. They are like bottom feeders…roaches that thrive in the shadows. They watch and sneer, furious, as they can’t come to the garden of light. And, get this, the biggest irony of all, is they are the ones who are inflicted with the leprosy...of ENVY AND JEALOUSY, and boy, does it hurt!

Discipline and Diabetes. How to get it right, without breaking your child's spirit...

Well, here I am again. On my soap box once more, feeling angry, annoyed, desperate and in need of some serious advice. I have found, there is so little literature out there about children and diabetes, how to discipline effectively, and to handle not only their emotions, but your own too.

Let me start at the beginning. Hearing Rebecca had the worst possible type of diabetes...type 1, felt like, in my husband's words "like I've shot my own daughter." Suddenly, you are thrown into the deep end, without a life jacket, not able to swim...and no instructor to teach you. 'Up the creek, without a paddle!' That sort of thing. I'm sure at some point in your life, you've felt like that. We all do, some time or another, not so?

I was forced to be up beat, 'smile when my heart was breaking'...a song comes to mind right now. Kev, as was I, was also thrown into a vortex of fear, uncertainty about the future, guilt, remorse, desperation! Fortunately, we were surrounded by wonderful, caring and highly qualified people. A brilliant paedetrician; lovely Christian diatician; sweet and kind diabetes representative; she taught Rebecca, and us how to inject, use the machine, change needles, store insulin...the list is endless. In a state of shock and horror, Kevin and I, needed several days just to absorb all the information being thrown at us, literally. Seriously, I felt as if my brain was going to short circuit, like one of those cartoon characters. Had some serious migraines during those early days.

But, my precious angel inspired me. She was so incredibly brave. You want to know something truly amazing? I have not once had to inject her with insulin. She won't let me! Right from the beginning, she did it all herself. The only time we both crumbled, was when she took her first bath. That's when I had a good look at her cute, little girl's innocent tummy covered in red, pin pricks from all the injections. She has to be careful, not to hit the same place twice, to avoid infection. Not to mention how painful it can get. I have to be extra sure, she has a fresh, new needle every day. We buy stock in advance. We also have to store the needles in an empty Coke bottle. It's against the law to throw them in the bin, thank goodness. It is a potential hazard. We must take them back to the paed ward at the Medi-Clinic.

When she first started acting out, I asked for a child psychologist to visit Rebecca in hospital. Suddenly, I had a temperamental teenager on my hands! One minute she was upbeat and goofing around, making us all laugh. (A gene she has inherited from her fun-loving Daddy). Always the class popular class clown. The next minute she would be moody, hostile, and so weepy, I would rock her like a baby. (Not that I minded, it's sad when they no longer want to sit on your lap and be hugged, I miss it so much). So, I don't know whether it's a good or bad thing, but I like it when she regresses and becomes needy like a baby again. I get to sing her the lullaby, I wrote for her when she was a baby. 'You're my precious little angel'...Oh, and she goes to sleep when I stroke her nose. How cute is that? Brings tears to my eyes, every time. Sorry, if I'm being a little soppy here, I just get very sentimental at times.

We saw an excellent psychologist; a compassionate man, who understood, as he lost his own child years ago. He could fully understand a parent's pain, on a deep level. My heart broke for him. He never spoke about it though. It's humbling to watch the brotherhood of doctors at work. They all stick together, are friends, Christians, promote and support each other to the end.

I cope with Rebecca's diabetes by looking for the good; seeing God's hand in the little miracles. And, the fact her life was spared, was the biggest one of all. Several angels, had also been sent to guide and support us. If it wasn't for Dr Fourie, I would have lost my child. I firmly believe that the doc; both with God's help and my faithful friend's prayers; saved her!

The psychologist managed to calm my ever mounting fears, by assuring me Rebecca was not depressed. With lots of help and support; as well as her own personal team and cheering squad; she would make it through the grief successfully. (Incidentally, I did for all of two seconds consider donning a mini-shirt and tank top, with 'I'm your biggest fan,and proud Mum,' embroidered across the top! But, thought better of it, as my once toned, youthful legs are now forty plus, and leave much to be desired. Wearing tight leggings, or skinny jeans, is a far as I am prepared to go....Plus, Bekki is at THAT typical age, where I would been sure to hear "Mum, you're embarassing me," and the dramatic rolling of the eyeballs. That, would have scared me senseless. I would be convinced, she was going into a coma, and spiralled into a panic. I would have pulled out the ominous emergency injection, which, I joke not, has a evil-looking, thick needle, which almost grins at you. I can imagine it saying, "you've avoided me long enough, but here I am...gottcha." It even rests in a hideous, coffin looking, yellow case. Maybe, it is vampiric by nature? It must be injected straight into the blood stream. You see what I mean now? The mind has a way of playing tricks on you. It jumps out and says "ta daa! I'm going to fill your mind with all sorts of ugly, scary thoughts!" Doesn't help, that I was born with an over active imagination, sometimes it works in my favour. I once won a prize, for my 'alien' story.

I'm waffling, another not so good attribute to being a writer. Too many words vying for attention. Annoying! Back to the psychological advice. He told me I need to stop "candy coating the disease...level with her. Get into her head; tell her you understand completely; feel what she's going through. Your life is crap; it's not fair; and I know you are scared and angry. Vent, shout, scream if you need to. Cry as much as you like, walk through your grief."

Interestingly enough, he told Kev and I, we must "grieve the loss of our healthy child, and embrace your sick child." I decided right then and there, that I would not only "embrace my sick child," but that I would celebrate her. Teach her to see the good in her situation, without losing track of how awful it was. Validate her feelings on a daily basis, whilst seeking out the good.

Firstly, she's still here with us, blessing us on a daily basis with her beautiful smile, angelic voice, and happy-go-lucky personality. (We don't need DSTV, she amuses us and keeps us entertained every day). I am also living my dream, which is to be at home with my babies. Fetching them from school is a treat. We get to talk about fashion, shopping, Nick Jonas who is her hero! He's a pop star,(dream material), kind, funny, handsome...and best of all a type 1 diabetic, who has devoted his life to caring and encouraging other diabetic children. He also donates money to raise awareness! Bless him. Kev has just come up with the most amazing idea. We're going to look for him on 'Twitter.' Bex will be over the moon, if she could get in contact with him.

I'll tell you a secret...my ultimate dream. God willing, if I do get my books published, I want to donate some of the profit to the diabetic cause. I've decided, once I've blogged about diabetes for a year, I'm going to turn it into my next book.

I want to include lots of fun illustrations, (I hope Kev will be happy to do this...he's great at drawing). My vision would be to encourage children to get real with their emotions, to process their inner dialogue and emerge stronger, more compassionate and eventually mentor the younger, struggling diabetics.

So, Kev and I are slowly coming out of the denial. Embracing our 'sick' child. I strongly oppose that label. They cause so much rejection, fear and self loathing. 'Fatty, stupid, nutter, loner, boffin, nerd, pig'....all so destructive. Those words are banned in our house!

The baby Fynn of the litter is prone to that! She sometimes calls Bekki 'stupid,' and vise versa. Needless to say, the result is 'Mr Sad Spoon,' who has super hero powers to banish ALL evil words, from the household. He's very clever and always gets his way! After the spanking, we turn him around, and on the back is a happy, fun face. That face tells the relevant, naughty child how proud Mum and Dad are, for taking the hiding on the chin. They have to explain back to us, why they believe they got the smack, say sorry and forgive and forget. The rule is for Kev and I, to be big enough to never, ever mention the said mistake again! That's a tall order, for sure.

All in all, as you can gather by now, the psychological toll diabetes takes on the whole family is huge. We have always tried to eat a healthy diet. Sweets, are only allowed once a week. (Accept when I'm prementrual, then the entire family, are allowed to indulge in a really big bar of my favourite chocolate. God bless, the man, or woman who created 'Aero.' If you want to see me bite someone's head off, just disturb this hormonal lady and the ritual involved in slowly eating her Aero! Have you seen that ad? Great concept, appeals to all women I think.

We all eat extra healthily now. I am addicted to 'Candarel,' sugar free chocolate. I don't have sugar in my tea, and Kev and Gabriella, have reduced their sugar intake, from two to one sugars, in their tea/coffee. Rebecca is allowed one sweetner a day. We all eat low GI seedloaf, diabetic jam, which is delicious by the way. And...get this, I'm even going to make chocolate cake, from the recipe book. I bought it Dorothy the diabetic. I kid you not, apparently it's delicious and contains butter beans! How bizarre is that? I've promised I'll make it sometime. All you locals, Sis, friends, neighbours and countrymen, are invited to a official 'diabetic, choccie cake launch.'

Sorry for those overseas friends. But, as my best friend knows, and I'm sure I drive her to distraction with this...I'm always looking for new, creative ways, to get them friend out for a visit. Carla, sweetie are you reading this? The girls have heard all about you and your family, and are waiting to meet you. As they are too waiting to me Aidz and family, Lindsay and the Rowlands clan, Aunty Lindsay and family in Oz, Tim and Jeni, Suzie and Craig, Andrew and Kim, Phil, Tina and baby Noah. They've heard about 'Viking Sarah Pie,' and love Aunty Heidi to bits, not to mention her cute little guy. They have yet to meet, Mandy in Norway and all the other friends overseas.

Bekki can't wait to have her own facebook profile, to keep in touch with her cuzzies. Sadly, today, she's in one of her 'I want my old life back,' sullen, dark moods. Not even my funny dancing, is cheering her up. Kev gets bleak, when the guilt monster, comes to visit us both, not to mention the division and havoc it causes. He's another 'Lord of the Rings' dude. Big, hairy, snarling, with a very bad set of fangs. Yellow, halitosis delux. Hairy ears and toes, you get it right?

I had the luxury of sleeping in this morning. My thoughtful husband does than on Sundays. Despite his exhaustion. He's in a good mood, as we had loads of fun at the rugby. Went to our local pub, kids played in the kiddies zone, where they have playstation. Stormers, and we indulged in beer shandies; and the most delectable soup and Ox-tail. Highly recommend it. I'm gonna do a ox-tail potjie sometime. A couple of our best friends, Sian and Brett...are you listening guys, have spoilt has numerous times with their 'best ever' potjie. We owe them big time! We're not the best, with keeping our entertainment schedule up to date. It always depends on our energy levels, Bekki's sugar and mood etc. Thankfully we are blessed with awesome, understanding friends who get the picture and support us. We are still waiting for cousin Mart, and his lovely lady to grace us with their prescence. Are you listening Mart? You are too busy 'hob nobbing it,' on those endless stilts of yours. aren't you? We do admire you, as it must take dedication and commitment, to do that. Not to mention, your sense of balance. You do keep us entertained with your costumes. We always have a peek at your facebook photos.

I had to nag really nag Rebecca to take her reading, and do her injections this morning. Aaarh...after much nashing of teeth, plus threatening to get out 'Mr Sad Spoon,' she obeyed and did her duty. Kev was irritated, the mood in the house changed. Peace and tranquility, is of the utmost importance, as stress effects Rebecca's blood sugar. But, we are human and Kev has worked overtime, everyvnight for the past two weeks. I get frustrated, he's a gem and excellent at his job; get's a decent salary, but not enough recognition! Even though, they repeatedly tell him, hes's their 'best project managager.'

But, I'm pleased to say exciting things are in the pipeline. Watch this space. It's going to happen for him soon, as I've experienced it myself. I resigned from my job, to be a committed full time Mom, mainly for Rebecca's sake. She needed me, and became my number one priority. Best thing ever as I'm now sixty percent Mom, twenty percent aspiring 'almost published author'...I love it! I have more time to blog, connect with my friends, entertain, and look for creative ways to celebrate life. I also have twenty percent of my time, to build my other dream. 'Crimson Edge Design.' I'm ecstatic to say, the clients are slowly drifting in. And, big ones who are prepared to pay the going rate. Good mula, and I only have to work morning only. Which, also takes alot of pressure off my over burdened hubby.

I've suggested he goes out into the great outdoors today...it's a gorgeous, sunny, warm winter's day here in Cape Town. Another mind blowing blessing, that we live in 'God's paradise.' My dream is all our loved ones to come and visit, or better still live here! Now that, would be sheer heaven.

Anyway, I'm wrapping up now as I too want to get out into the sunshine. I've promised I'll take the kids and our puppy Zoe out for a long walk. We're also blessed with a beautiful damn, complete with ducks (my favourite), and killer carp who eat all the bread and have the biggest mouths I've ever seen. Beast they are, better believe it.

Kevin did his discipline thing this morning, as did 'Mr Sad Spoon.' I'm a big softy and push over. I threaten too much, but don't give nearly enough smacks. Kev does it, then feels awful. Which is why, he's gone out. I've told him to go and reflect, dream big, find his wings and fly. We all need time out sometimes. Most especially married couples and parents. Keeps us healthy, and sane.

Kev and I are both fiercely independant people, creative, but fiery, stubborn, but loyal and need lots of personal space, as we're prone to frustration, and feeling caged, when we don't have timeout. So, we both promote it and explain to our girls, why it is so important.

Order is restored in the Fynn household. Rebecca has been told why she got a hiding. Gabriella has been warned, as she was also causing havoc this morning. Kev is out flying his personal kite of freedom...I am writing, my favourite passion, and the girls are watching a cartoon dvd. Their best time out.

I'm signing 'over and out,' and wishing you all a happy, blessed Sunday. Have fun, dream big, test those butterfly wings. They really, truly do work...believe it.

Don't be afraid to do a round in the boxing ring with rejection....that's where dreams come true!

Well, here I am again...'burning the midnight oil,' because my kiddies are asleep in my bed, again, and my hubby's snoring. Not that I mind, I enjoy the peace and quiet. A lovely, warm blankie tucked around my legs, like a faithful friend, my cuddly kitty purring next to me, and the kitchen clock ticking out it's constant, contented rythm. There's something magical about those sacred hours, when the kids are in the land of nod, and the hubby is peaceful, blissfully away from the demands of work, contractors, difficult boss...you get the picture.

Earlier today, when Rebecca was in floods of tears (again), because Gabriella had gone to a 'sweetie paradise' party, and she didn't, I pounced on her and told her it was a good opportunity to vent her feelings about diabetes. I managed to convince her for all of five seconds! It's the little quivering lip that got to me, bless her. My heart breaks when she's like that, as I am so at a loss for words to comfort her. That's when I do lots of praying. Only God can help in moments like that. Anyway, she said she wasn't feeling well, so lay down on my bed with some warm milk. I have just been paid by my reluctant 'prodigal' client, so she looked like the cat that got the cream, as I can now buy her the long awaited pair of trendy black boots to go, with her striped stockings and mini skirt! Oh dear, what have I done? Created a rod for my own back maybe?

I decided tonight, I would talk about rejection. Yes, it's an ominous, ugly word isn't it? I can even imagine what it looks like. Something out of 'Lord of the Rings'...big hairy, with large teeth and really bad halitosis. You get the picture, right?

The reason I thought I'd raise this awkward topic, is because let's face it, we all have rounds in the boxing ring with him don't we? We spend hours covering the black eye and thick lip with make-up. When our caring friends ask how we are, we squeak fine, thank you very much! But, get real, we all struggle with it and we all pretend we don't. Why, I ask myself. Simple really, because we all wrongly assume that no decent, content, happy woman could possibly have a hard time with something so trivial as rejection! We also wrongly think, that noone else has this dreaded disease. And....worst thing of all, we all side step each other, afraid senseless, we might get infected. Like it's swine flu or something contagious!

But, hey I've decided to come out of the closet in full drag queen regalia. The wig, stilletos and tatty T-Shirt that screams...'I struggle with rejection...so shoot me...or if you feel sorry for me and can relate, feed me lots of chocolate.' I'm not going to give you a long, drawn out sob story about a terrible childhood, growing up with only one pair of shoes and eating coal for breakfast, much as it is tempting as it makes a great story. Almost like Oliver Twist, and I do like that story so much. Cried my eyes out, the first time I saw it.

No, all I'm going to talk about is a childhood full of unmet needs, and ridiculously high expectations. A distant, cold father I adored, who was rejected himself. Stiff upper lip British background, no wonder! And he, as a result rejected both myself, my sweet little sister and protective big brother. I grew up feeling invisible, just like those little dust specs in 'Horton Has a Who!' I had an 'Oprah moment,' when I saw that movie. What does she call it, an 'ephipany?' Yes, that's it. I had a large dollop of ephipany for breakfast. Suddenly, I thought I know how you feel little one. I can hear you, let me help you. Have you ever felt like that? To cut a long, dramatic, tear-jerking story short, I'll try to wrap it up into a synopsis style nutshell. I tried really hard to impress my Dad and even my brother, who was my mentor and hero. He in turn tried to impress my Dad, as did my little sister and so the circle turned. All of us vainly trying to impress, getting nowhere, batting off the critical comments. Pretending not to care, whilst bleeding inside. Trying to be strong for each other...I desperately tried to protect my little sister, wasn't very effective. Words have a way of penetrating the soul, like nothing else can. So hey presto, we all grew up into fine, upstanding citizens, paying tax, honouring bills, feeding the cat and our children, that sort of thing...but, oh so very sensitive to the ugly monster REJECTION!

I did a round in the ring twice this week. The first time was when the annoying client ditched me, and then apologised. I spent a day lamenting before God about that one. Almost had the sackcloth and knashing teeth thing down to a fine art! Why didn't they like my design? Aren't I good enough? Am I a 'has been...past my 'sell by date?' They said the other designer was a 'heavy weight,' with fifteen years experience. Whilst I was in my dark, little corner licking my wounds, it suddenly occured to me. An epiphany appeared to me in woman's clothing and say 'hold on...rewind! You too, my dear are 'heavy weight,' and have fifteen years experience in design. Now, get up out of your misery, put on those boxing gloves and as soon as you've thumped 'rejection' good and hard...when he's on the ground gasping for breath, tell him you forgive him. Then walk out of the ring with your head held high, and politely leave behind a fresh, invigorating dose of 'heaped coals on his head.'

So, I did exactly that, and then sat down and wrote another chapter of my novel, 'Crimson As The Sun.' Now, some of you are aware that this is my 'baby of all babies.' I have been in labour with this baby, for going on ten years now. So I'm tired, dog tired in fact, grumpy, sensitive and desperate for acceptance. When this baby is finally delivered with a nicely designed cover, hardcover, well edited...there will be an almight yell from the rooftops! Everytime, I finish a chapter, I post it onto the Fanstory website for reviewing and editing purposes. I can honestly thank my family and fans on that site, for the growth I have experienced during the last few months. Some of them, are very high calibre, published authors with years of experience. They have patiently encouraged, stretched, criticised, edited my writing, scolded and inspired me.

The latest chapter of my book outlines the hero's state of mind after the grenade attack. The poor guy was blown up, almost died, in a coma for ten days, has now woken up, can't remember and....worst of all has had lis leg amputed. Now, you get he's going to be in a really, really bad mood. Depressed even! I have done alot of research into Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and as this falls under the 'mental illness' diagnosis, part of Jack's treatment is to start therapy with a psychologist. So, it was not an easy chapter to write, as I had to get into the head of this tormented man, try to find out what makes him tick during such a traumatic time, and get into the head of the Doc too. Not an easy task, but I'm up for the challenge. Any writer worth his weight in gold, has to be thick skinned and be sure the character descriptions and dialogue are authentic and believable. Most of all, a writer must be prepared to do more than one round in the ring with the biggest heavy weight of all, REJECTION!

I've now earned my stripes, as I am pleased to say I did my round today. I received a total of seven reviews on that chapter, and whilst I usually receive five star ratings, five out of the seven this time were four star ratings. Now, how do I read that. NOT GOOD ENOUGH! That same epiphany drag queen angel shows up and starts wagging his bony, nail polished finger at me. At first I think, HOW DARE HE? But, after awhile I start to think...hang on, maybe he's right. I think do the whole character annihilation thing. Beat myself up a few times, berate myself for not checking the spelling, grammer, character authenticity, or the narrative enough. But, thankfully, I come full circle. I pull on those gloves and go for it. Once I've finished punching the lights out of REJECTION, I do my little victory dance and then sit down to edit, rewrite, restructure and tidy up my work. It's a bit like wiping your face with a towel and tidying up after a good workout. I then systematically thank all my faithful fans and mentors for taking the time to help me grow, see my mistakes and lend a hand in the stretching process. I also realise, they were not in fact being critical, rude or hurtful. They are also frightened of REJECTION, have already walked the path and are now proudly boasting their well earned stripes.

I'm certainly not there yet, but one thing I am sure of, is I'm on my way to earning the sacred 'holy grail of worthiness.' I feel vulnerable, afraid, alone and out on a limb, like a cold, shivering little Eaglet about to throw herself head first out of the warm, safe nest. But, one thing I know for sure, when she does jump she will not only fly, she'll soar. Reason being, the Father Eagle circles the sky, waiting for his eaglets to jump.

The challenge I have for you dear friend...is are you brave enough to do two simple things? And, they really are simple, if you try not to dissect them too much. Are you prepared to root out REJECTION once and for all? I hope so, as you need to get through step one, before you move onto step two. If you have conquered rejection, you are ready to jump...and dream. Way out there, in the great beyond where the Great Eagle will fly with you...exists your very own tailor made dream. It is the vision God breathed into you at conception. You may not know what it is yet, but trust me, He knows...and is desperately waiting for you to simply ask Him!

Always forgive, even when it feels like it's killing you...

Well, today I've decided to digress a bit. I thought i'd talk about a topic that hopefully, has wide spread interest. Because I've dealt with so much disappointment in my life, I have learnt to artfully dodge those 'wretched curve balls,' that somehow seem to smack you full in the face when you least expect it!

Yesterday, I was let down by a client! It was a potentially new client, who wanted a website done, and made out that it was a done deal. She asked for a layout and I went,(I believe), above and beyond. I designed not one, but three layouts. I also did a great job. (That's not my opinion, but my talented husband's opinion, who I always ask to cast his creative eye over my work. He's an interior designer/project manager, and as I was dealing with a contractor in the retail industry, it was right up his alley. Anyway, he seriously loved it and raved about it. But, you know how the client is always right blah blah... well, she blew it clean out of the water. I, being the sensitive soul that I am (sad isn't it), took it very badly and was in floods of tears.

But, you know something. We serve an awesome God who loves us so much that He always wants us to 'practice what we preach.' It is a high calling being a Mum. The other day I spoke to Bexs about how 'when one door closes another opens.' Well, of course God is going to test me on that one! She was too cute, and could see I was upset so brought me a cup of my favourite tea. I told her my story and she nodded wisely and immediately saw the connection. So, we spoke about how there will always be people who don't accept us as we are. But, there will be those lovely souls who love and celebrate us as we are. And, I am pleased to say I am so blessed by many of those angels. Family and kind freinds who celebrate who I am. There are those who will judge, condemn, and criticise us. Usually, it is because of their own inadequacies and insecurities.

We are allowed to rant and rave before God, tell Him how hurt and angry we are. But, then we must forgive. For our own sakes. Once we do that, we feel free and peaceful.

My darling little Gabriella is struggling with bullies at school. Can you believe it at just six years old? Of course, my mother lioness spirit rose within me and wants to go to war, but I use the same principle here. I tell her they are bullies because they are insecure and afraid. She must forgive and love them. Tell them she forgives them, and ask if they want to be friends. It's a tall order for such a little one. Usually, she says 'no, mommy,' and that's when I tell her to vent at me, God and tell me how sad and hurt she is.

I also re-inforce their strengths. How loving, kind and talented they are. They are both brilliant artists, who bless me daily with funny little drawings of cats,(my favourites) with big, forlorn looking eyes. Gabriella, is good at frogs...oh, and giraffes too! Her favourite animal. I tell them over and over again how clever they are and how much I love their work. Thankfully, they have awesome teachers who also do this for them.

Rebecca's hockey match was cancelled, thank goodness. I was dreading standing in the cold and rain to watch. She was also grateful. I worry about her catching a cold and her sugars being thrown out.

We had a lovely afternoon drinking coffee and doing homework. Then we watched the dvd 'Astro Boy.' I enjoyed it too, sweet movie with a lovely moral about loving someone for WHO they are, and not WHAT THEY DO.

Anyway, time to climb off my soap box for today. Have a lovely, fun, blessed day and remember to be kind. Sow love, forgiveness and grace. Trust me, it will come back to you. And, as a double portion too. You will walk away feeling blessed. Isn't it amazing how when you're feeling down, the best way to feel better is to bless someone else. Wow, now that's something worth raving about!

Diabetic children and sport, the dilema they face...

Well, today I've decided to write about my daughter's sports and how it related to her diabetes. Now, that's a long, involved topic in itself. Firstly, can you just imagine how incredibly hard it is to adjust to a whole new life? Suddenly catapaulted from well, non diabetic status to sick diabetic.

She has to get used to regarding sugar as the enemy. The very ingredient she desires most, is now the very thing that could kill her! The only time it's her friend, is when her blood glucose reading is low. (And, then there's the added fear she could drop so low, she could lapse into a coma. So, it's a constant juggling act, that you absolutely HAVE to get right. There's no room for error). But, the lows are sometimes before sport, or when she's over injected herself with insulin. Which, is not often as she normally has 'big brother' watching her.

Fortunately, my little Champion is an avid sports junkie. Very good at running, has won the 100m sprint medal for the past three years. She's also an excellent Hockey player...always scores an average of four to five goals. Now, am I a proud Mum or what? But, sports is a whole 'new ball game,' to coin a pun. I can no longer leave her to her own devices. I have to be there to monitor her sugar. Is she too low, too high maybe? Always have the jelly babies or glucogel ready. If she's too high, she can't play! That would be a catastrophe as she would be heart broken. If she's too low
it's a bonus, as they she gets to eat three jelly babies. Not too many mind you.

Diabetics have to excercise alot as it helps to bring down their sugar levels. They shouldn't do sport bare foot, as they can cut or injure their feet. Because, diabetics are prone to 'pins and needles in their feet,' and sometimes can't feel them, they can become infected. So, everyday we have to check for cuts, grazes etc. Normally, I do this before her bath. If there's anything there, I add salt and Dettol anti-septic to her water. My little hero is normally given the all clear. Afterall, she is an African 'Pikanini,' who has virtually grown up bare foot, and had hardened feet!

This proud and committed Mum, (give myself a hearty pat on the back), is braving the cold and rain, to watch my girl play Hockey this afternoon. I usually take a flask of tea, sometimes we eat pancakes and I yell with great gusto to spur her on. She absolutely loves this, don't all children?

Wish her luck, she needs all the love and support she can get. Diabetics struggle alot with self esteem. She tells me she 'wants her old life back,' and feels different. But, her teacher tells me she is one of the most popular girls in her class. She's also the class clown. Her wonderfully, supportive teacher and I have a strategy to re-inforce that. Rebecca doesn't think she's popular. So...all you family members and devoted friends out there, please support her. Love her, cheer her on. Tell her she's special, not different. Tell her how brave and strong she is. Next blog I'll tell you about her exciting and budding music career. She sings like an angel, and a talent scout has spotted her! A Christian singer from a rock band, who wants to give her voice training lessons. Isn't that just so cool. Watch this space, exciting stuff.

Have a great day and God bless. Thank you to my wonderful, sweet and kind hearted cousin, who has become my very first blog follower. Come on the rest of you. Rebecca needs to feel your love!

Neen's Very First Blog

Hmm...what to say. I'm a writer and normally have a wealth of ideas when it comes to writing, but now I'm at a loss for words!

Okay, here goes. My name is Janine Ellis Fynn. I am a forty something wife and mother of two young girls. Rebecca Jade is ten years old, going on eighteen! Gabriella Rose is six years old. I suppose the first thing that comes to mind to write about is my eldest daughters Diabetes. Type 1 diabetes to be exact. Now, this is a subject I could write about forever.

It all started last year in November. My otherwise healthy child, suddenly lost about three kilograms overnight and was feeling very ill. When the school phoned to tell me she was vomitting, I raced home from work and rushed her straight to the doctor. The paedetrician took a 'dip stick test,' and told me Rebecca would need to be admitted to the Intensive Care Unit immediately. Her blood glucose reading was off the scale at 48! The doc told me he had never treated a child with such a high reading before. Normally, children go into a coma and then die around 39! She was admitted on the verge of kidney failure and had severe dehydration and ketonacidosis. That first night in hospital was nothing less than terrifying, especially as my husband was away on business. I firmly belive my precious angel was spared, purely because of all the prayer that was said for her that night. I have wonderful, faithful friends who prayed throughout the night.

That night was the beginning of a roller-coaster ride of emotional extremes. My sweet, innocent baby girl had been thrown one of life's worst curveballs (as had I), and we were ill prepared for what was to come. My dear husband spent a sleepless night miles away from us, and arrived shaken and dishevelled the next morning. He clutched a fluffy teddy bear in his hands, and it was wonderful to see the smile on Rebecca's face, when he handed it to her. I, had never felt so relieved to see him. I clutched onto him like a drowning women in a turbulent sea. My youngest daughter, Gabriella was blissfully unaware of the storm. She spent the night with my sister, who was kindly caring for her. It was good to have at least one child, who was safe and sound, far away from the growing darkness....