World Book Night Tonight

So far I’ve given away 17 copies of The Road by Cormac Mccarthy, in the W12 area of London. It’s World Book Night and I signed up to be a giver. I chose The Road, because when I read it about five or six years ago, I literally couldn’t put it down. Even though the subject matter is bleak , a father and his young son trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic America, desperately trying to reach the coast, it is also strangely uplifting. Only two people I have offered books to refused, one an old man, who perhaps thought I was selling him something and another a woman who works in a butcher shop who said she only likes “light reads.”  The shopkeepers in the opticians, the wine merchant, Tesco, the chemist, seemed the most pleased to receive a book.  The majority of people said they didn’t get round to reading very much. I gave away two books in the builders cafe – one to the owner and one to a man who said he wasn’t very well at the moment, but would read it when he got better. I gave one to a mother picking up children, and one to a young forlorn girl standing in a doorway, who was really pleased and surprised that the book was for free. She said she would give it to her auntie. A newsagent said she would give it to her daughter as she could only concentrate for about two lines when she reads.  I urged her to give it a go, she said she would. I also gave one to a man who was waiting in a dentist surgery and one to a mother picking up her kids, who said she hasn’t had much time to read recently.

I am not sure how many of these 17 receivers will actually finish the book, but it’s great to be able to give something away,  rather than sell something.

I will give the rest away early evening. If anyone can get to W12 and wants a copy let me know!

Losing Weight

I have now been on the Dukan Diet for about a year. I wrote this post last July, after my first few months on the diet. I had been meaning to try it for a long time, had already attempted it once without the book and failed. I then gave in and bought the book and made a real effort to follow the diet exactly. In my opinion it’s the best diet I have followed and there have been a few. I have attempted everything from the cabbage diet, to a boot camp in Devon, to having my food delivered, and I can confirm, that the Dukan is the only diet I’ve tried that keeps the weight off. But you have to work at it. The Dukan is a diet for life, and though I never reached my ideal weight with it, and would gleefully like to lose another five pounds, I know what to do, when I notice that I weigh more than I did a few days previously.  Knowing how to lose the weight and accepting that I have to follow some of the rules for life, makes me feel in control.

A couple of years ago, I went away for seven nights to a bootcamp to write an article for  a magazine, and lost 3lbs! I lost more weight the following week, when I was back home, but gradually put it all on again. There was such hard work involved  at the bootcamp, including hiking for miles on end wearing a heavy back bag, and doing military style workouts. We were given tiny amounts of food, and told to chew endlessly. I knew that it was not a regime, I would even be able to remotely follow, once I got home. The Dukan is manageable though. You don’t need to star jump and run about and hike uphill and you can eat as much as you like of the foods you are allowed. A win win situation!

One Week and Counting.

So it’s been just over a week now, that I have suddenly become a non-smoker. It’s quite an achievement and I still struggle at that six o clock moment.  I joined the NHS non smoking campaign and am really enjoying the text support I’m getting. I signed up for ‘light’ support and receive about two or three texts a day. I can’t think how many texts people receive if they want regular support, I find 3 is enough. If I crave a cigarette, I can text CRAVE, and suddenly a text will pop up in my inbox telling me to do one of the chores on my list to keep myself occupied or some other words of encouragement. There are numerous texts telling me how much I have saved by not smoking and congratulating me for my efforts. As I only smoked one or two a day, I don’t think I have made substantial savings yet, but still, it’s good to know that I am not breathing in carbon monoxide. It’s really quite great to feel supported. Yesterday a text arrived saying: Each smokefree day is an achievement so congratulate yourself every night. Each day will show how strong you are   and that’s something to be proud of. Today I got one telling me how to download a ten minute mediation if I feel stressed.

So that’s getting sorted I hope. I haven’t had to face the real test though – the one where I will have to go out to a party or something and there are PEOPLE SMOKING AND DRINKING and I just wander up to their huddled group and ask someone if I can have one. That was my downfall last time. I have decided to arm myself with chewing gum and pop one in my mouth if the urge takes over. I did resist one at my daughter’s birthday when my two girlfriends went outside to have a quick fag. I missed the camaderie, of giggling off outside to huff and puff and gossip, but was glad that I resisted.

But now I have to sort out the persistent headaches I get two weeks after the end of a menstrual cycle. I have one now, and it’s completely debilitating. I would appreciate any tips.

Smoking

Smoking is evil and vile and cigarettes stink. They also kill you. I know this, we all know this, and yet some maverick, rebellious characters carry on doing it. You see huddles of them crowded outside parties, or office blocks. Sometimes they look as though they are in a secret, conspiratorial club and they are laughing. In winter they shiver and stamp their feet, which doesn’t look so much fun.

I am a smoker, who is on the brink of giving up forever.  The first time I stopped smoking, about two years ago, I was hypnotised by a woman, who gave me a CD to play afterwards.  I went to two hypnosis sessions and I listened to the tape, and  using a lot of will power, I managed to give up. Instead I ate all the children’s sweets.  After a few months, I noticed my husband had given up in sympathy, but I was slipping. I would have someone else’s cigarette at a party, but my husband wouldn’t budge. He was now a non-smoker and he hadn’t even been hypnotised

I only have one cigarette a day and I usually wait until the children go to bed. They point out that people die, they wave their hands around and grimace if they catch me out. “You’ve been smoking,” my daughter says when she smells smoke on me.  My husband tells me to go and smoke outside. Everyone hates it and me for doing it. Just this morning, I threw a pack of ten in the rubbish. Yesterday I forgot to go to my giving-up smoking appointment at the chemist. For three days before that I listened to my Georgia Foster hypnosis tape and I was fine for a few nights. My husband came back from tennis one evening and found me listening to the words, “no thank you, I am not a smoker, no thank you I am not a smoker,” being said over and over again on the hypnosis tape, which is what I am meant to say when someone offers me one.  He got the giggles and then I did and the whole thing ground to a halt.

I am going to listen to the tape again, and again, and again. I have to actually admit that I am not a smoker, because at the moment, I feel that I am hardly a smoker which is no good at all. Anyone have any tips?

The Park Club – Acton

If you want to be healthy, you do really have to do some exercise, we all know this and yet it can be really hard to commit.  I am not a gym bunny and in fact I don’t like any form of high-octane exercise. I’d rather go for a walk than  a run, or swim and sit in the steam room rather than an aerobics class and I don’t live near a lovely beach, which is just inviting me to walk down it. In fact I live between two busy London Streets, filled with noise, people and traffic.  I attempt to keep active by swimming and  going to pilates classes; sometimes I think about getting a small, well-behaved dog, which would force me to take long walks in the park.

I have been a member of various health clubs for the last twenty years, it’s a luxury but a really worthwhile one. My first club was adults only and it suited me fine at the time, as I was single and carefree. The second one I joined after getting married and having babies. The rule stated that children were allowed children in on a Wednesday afternoon to swim, which was not very satisfactory, but I kept going in a rather selfish way, because I was addicted to one particular yoga class taught by one particular teacher.  About four years ago, I gave in, wrenched myself away and joined a family friendly club – the Park Club in Acton.  I now can’t imagine my life without it.

I interviewed my children yesterday to find out what they thought about it. My daughter who is nearly 8 said she loved the cafe there, “which has nice cookies, lollipops, crisps and water for free! So you don’t have to waste time queuing when you’re hot.” They serve healthy food too, but she’s not at all interested in that. She loves their assault course, which is tucked away in one part of the 27 acres of land.  ”They have giant viking boats that go really high, a giant swing, a wobbly thing you have to stand on, and a standing see-saw.” She also likes the pool (there is an indoor and outdoor one) “because you can learn to swim and have fun.” And she also added to my surprise that, “the rules are really sensible, like children are not allowed in the jacuzzi, or in the gym, because they could hurt themselves.” My ten-year old son, says he likes the fact that you can just turn up and find someone to play football with and he says, “there is brilliant coaching.” So all in all a success. It’s particularly comforting to sit on their terrace on a sunny Sunday, sipping tea, reading newspapers and not worrying that the children have met some pervert in a public park. (I kid you not, a park policeman once warned me about a man who had been arrested in our local park for spying on children behind a tree!)

I absolutely love it at the Park Club,  and it’s great in the school holidays. The children could actually spend all day there, running around, or going to a holiday camp  and they have a certain amount of freedom to roam.  I was depressed recently, when I went to see Swallow and Amazons and was once again reminded about the level of freedom kids were given in those days – 1929. The children were allowed to go to an island and camp out on their own. Who would let their children do that now? The Park Club, admittedly is not an island but it does feel like a welcome oasis in a busy, urban, sometimes scary world.

A Different Kind of Facial – Environ Active Vitamin Treatment

“What have you done?” My friend Geraldine asked. Have you given up smoking? Eating green vegetables and miso soup? Getting more sleep? Whatever it is you look really good..younger.” We were sitting at Kensington PLace, last night, sharing oysters and King Size prawns, and catching up on three months worth of news. My giving up smoking has been at best pathetic, (I was meant to give up for Lent) but have so far only managed 3 or 4 days without any cigarettes -although as Geraldine says, one cigarette a day is “negligable,” Good friend. Anyway to get back to the point I recently had an interesting Environ Facial and for about a week now, have been using some Environ Products,  - perhaps this is why I look well. Well according to my friend anyway.

You need time to commit to this facial, I’ve only had one, (Which lasted two hours including initial consultation) but you are meant to do a course of six or so. My therapist Faye, at the Skin 3 Clinic,  in Swiss Cottage, talked to me for at least half an hour prior to the facial, about my concerns. I mentioned visible pores, and didn’t bother to add ageing skin generally,  that goes without saying.  She analysed my skin  and concluded that  the Active Vitamin Facial would be best for me as it’s packed with nourishing, anti-ageing ingredients including Vitamins A and C, lactic Acid  and growth factors, which are driven deep into the lower layers of the skin using soundwaves and electronic pulses. Great for me as it’s supposed to address sun damage, dryness, uneven skin tone and scarring and stimulate collagen and improve elasticity.

The consultation with Faye included a skin analysis which was taken from a photograph of my face. The different images scanned on the computer showed where my scary looking sun damage, brown pigmentation, blemishes, capillary damage, wrinkles, scars and imperfections and congested pores are clustered. Terrifying stuff. The machine also showed me what my face would look like in 5 years time, if I don’t keep up with the treatments. Also scary!

This is not a relaxing pampering facial, but you really do feel that your skin is benefitting from proper scientific research and it was obvious that Faye really believes in and is excited about the products. We shall see what happens, if I ever go back to have my skin analysed again, perhaps those blemishes and congested pores will have miraculously vanished!

Day 6 of giving up smoking for Lent

Hurray, I’ve managed 2 nights now without my usual one or two cigarettes.

Sunday evening, without a packet was quite easy, as I was so tired, I could barely eat, let alone smoke. Last night, was slightly harder.  I drove to the Tabernacle in Notting hill, to the 5 X 15 event, which included Alain De Botton discussing why atheists can benefit by ‘stealing’ certain principles of religion even if they don’t believe in God, which he takes as a given. According to him there is no God.

I  would usually smoke my one cigarette of the evening, while driving in the car, a wonderful moment of escape from the kids, escape from routine, but managed to resist. I did fleetingly think of stopping to buy a packet, (the familiar pull of ritual) but remembered a hypnotherapist, once saying to breath in and out deeply, when the urge grips. Went to bed and definitely slept deeper than usual. Feel so good that I’ve even managed 2 days, as have told my children I am giving up for Lent and so far, I have smoked 3 of the days since Ash Wednesday and my daughter was not that impressed when she discovered a cigarette in an ashtray. But am determined to carry on now, perhaps past Lent, and on and on forever and ever.

The not so great moment came today when I weighed myself. I seem to have put on a kilo and a bit,  in the last two nights not smoking. I definitely remember  attacking some Maltesers and a packet of popcorn in the pathetic bid to have something in my mouth? A distraction? A prize?

Smoking Saga Day 2

Following on from my post yesterday, I am rather shamefully updating news of giving up cigarettes for Lent. I had planned to arrive at my friends’ house for dinner, with a bottle of wine but no cigarettes. Socialising, drinking, and feasting late, are all smoking triggers for me. I had actually planned this scenario, when at 750pm, I received the following text from my friend: Bring Cigarettes if u have any, really fancy one!

A better person than me, would have seen this as a challenge to overcome.

I texted back to say that I had given up for Lent, but I would bring a packet, that I had failed to throw away the day before. I toyed with the idea of not bringing them, but then decided I didn’t want to let her down at her own dinner party.  So of course we shared one in the garden, the moment I arrived. I felt pathetic and awful and planned not to post today at all. I was conscious of my breath as I kissed a rather fanciable man hello. I was conscious of other people  succeeding in giving up all sorts of things for Lent. After dinner, another woman, who said she had given up smoking for seventeen years, demanded one and my hostess said she would like one too.  I am proud to say at this instant, I did not, as I would usually do, join them in a carefree smoking fest.  So last night was a failure, but also somehow, a small triumph. I usually smoke at least 3 or 4 at a dinner and feel hung over from the nicotine the next day. At least today, I don’t have a nicotine hangover, but perhaps a tiny wine one!

Just one more cigarette – Can I give up for Lent?

I can’t seem to stop. I’ve tried. Yes really. Once when pregnant with my first child I didn’t smoke at all.  The second time I was pregnant, I have to admit that I smoked very occasionally and at a party, a stranger came up and berated me for it. A couple of years ago I gave up after I’d been hypnotised for a magazine article I was writing  (subsequently, I was convinced that me managing to not smoke was more to do with will-power than anything else, and I substituted great handfuls of the children’s sweets for cigarettes and made myself feel sick.) Gradually, as the month passed, I allowed myself to smoke other people’s roll-ups at parties, then gave in and bought my own, kidding myself that roll-ups are better than a packet of twenty.  I’m not saying that I am a chain-smoker, far from it. I am talking one cigarette a night. Recently it’s somehow creeped up to two a night. That’s the problem, it’s not a disaster, but it’s a habit. If I’m socialising it can escalate to the dizzy height of three or even four.  I hate the smell in the house and on my hands, but I love the thrill of it, the escape from the day, the whiff of release.

When the children came home from school last week, and demanded to know what I was giving up for Lent, I was foolhardy and replied smoking. Ash Wednesday arrived (yesterday) and when I woke, I visualised throwing the packet away, but when it came to it, I decided not to, because I fooled myself into thinking that perhaps someone else would want one, or  perhaps I could have just one on Sundays during lent, which apparently you are allowed to do.  By 9.00pm  I had smoked my one cigarette but managed to hold off from two.

I don’t fancy patches, I’ve read they give you weird dreams. The idea of nicotine gum sounds awful.

It’s National No Smoking Day on March 14th. Yesterday  I read that around 157,000 children between 11-16 start smoking every year. That was me, I started at boarding school, partly to hang out with the “cool girls” partly for something to do to relieve the monotony. My father is a keen smoker, and always has been, I remember my mother smoking when she was stressed. My mother hasn’t smoked for years now.

I have to stop. For all the obvious reasons. Not least my children hate it.

I’m going out to dinner tonight at a friend’s house. There will be people, wine, possibly someone else smoking (though that is doubtful). I may blog tomorrow and tell you what happened. I really really do want to give up.

The hell of getting into a London Independent School at 11

My ten-year-old son, recently sat three 11plus exams for two academic independent London schools, (One co-ed, one boys only) and one less academic, but oversubscribed school.  Let’s just say all the schools he tried for are oversubscribed. Seriously oversubscribed. Recession? What recession? My only conclusion is that the parents of children who would have normally gone to boarding school, are cutting back by trying for London day schools. When I say the exams are hard, I mean hard, I could barely manage the maths papers that he was practicing, although I have to admit maths was never really my thing.

We live in West London and the competition is fierce, very fierce, much more fierce than I had imagined, even though I had been warned.  One popular, academic co-ed school near us, had 950 applicants for about 100 places. He is a bright boy. We have always been told this by our friends, and by our families. His teachers have always told us that he is articulate for his age,he is in every gifted and talented programme the school has going, but this means nothing when it comes to trying for these schools. It’s madness. We had him on track to go to the local Church of England State Secondary, when about 18 months ago, my mother offered to pay independent school fees. This sent me down a different path, a path that perhaps he was not fully prepared for. He had a tutor, but only from the summer half term of year 5. What I didn’t realise is the private school children have literally been preparing for these exams all their academic life.

These few weeks have been hell. Taking him to the three hour exams, seeing the hundreds of children, some tiny, like him, queuing up, clutching their see-through pencil cases, made me feel tearful and emotional. Watching them come out looking pale and shell-schocked wasn’t great either. Our son was very brave, never complained, but really, these children are young.The days continue to be tense and nerve-wracking.   The first letter came from the boys school, – “the competition for places was fierce this year,” it said. Our boy had not been asked for interview. My heart sank. We feared the worst, he wouldn’t get in to any of the three schools, he  tried for. I feared the worst, because he would feel like a failure. He had worked hard, he had turned up, he’s only ten! Not even eleven until the summer term. I began to think he should have been tutored for far longer, than just from the summer half term. Then a few days later, a letter from the less academic school arrived.  He’s been asked for an interview on this coming Saturday. My sense of relief was extraordinary. When I asked the school secretary how many children have been invited for interview she said %60 of those that took the exam. This is still in no way a done deal.

We are waiting to hear from his favourite school, the academic, mixed school, the one he really really wants to go to. We will hear early next week. Last night he came downstairs saying he couldn’t sleep, he wanted to ‘curl up and hide.’ Why I asked. “It’s just the exams, he said, “the interview,everything.”  I have not put him under pressure, I have told him that the state school is a fantastic option, that he can only do his best. Whatever school he  end up going to will be the best one for him. He knows that. He just doesn’t believe it any more. He has seen the facilities, the sports fields, the libaries, the exclusive hush and comfort of the private schools.

I wrote an email to a friend who had gone through the same thing last year and this is what she said. Yes I know exactly what you’re going through. (my child) went through the same gruelling system last year – also transferring from a small local state school.  The mother of her best friend  got in such a hysterical state that she applied for 12 schools.  He’s a very bright boy.  The statistics do seem horrendous but the picture is not nearly as bad as it may seem.   the idea that there is only the private school or disaster is definitely very VERY far from the reality.  The options are wide and varied.  But the climate of fear is so pervasive.  And paranoia is catching.  Everyone is muttering the figures to one another.  Everyone has a looming foreboding that their childs whole future happiness and well being is one the line.  
Step back, stop listening, hold your nerve.  I promise you it will work out fine! 

This was her advice, step back, stop listening and hold your nerve. Her child did get into the three schools she applied for. But still for all of us out there, going through this now, Step Back, Stop Listening and Hold Your Nerve. And if you’re applying next year, think hard before you do. If your child is coming from a state school you will need a tutor, and that is the least of it.