Hoax Buster!

One of my treats, if I am up before everyone else in the house, is to sit in front of my computer, with my coffee, scrolling through my newsfeed on Facebook. It's nice to catch up on the latest news from my friends and family before I start the day.

I love Facebook. It's a great way to keep in touch with far-flung loved ones who I don't get to see or can't phone often because we live in different time zones. It's also handy for keeping up with local events, current affairs, other mums from the school ... as social networking goes, it's everything I need. It has made it easier for me to be in touch with people I haven't always kept up with in "real life" - I may not have spoken with someone from my school days for years, but we can share photos and keep each other informed of happenings in our lives and it feels like the friendship is kept alive, when it would have otherwise fallen by the wayside years ago. I have also been able to re-connect with people I hadn't seen or heard from for years (even decades!).

My only gripe with Facebook is the number of hoaxes filling up my Wall. This is not Facebook's fault. The blame here lies entirely with people who follow others and share blindly without checking facts - rather unkindly referred to as "sheeple".

Anyone who has had anything to do with Facebook will know the kind of thing I'm referring to ... everything from famous people being credited with speeches they didn't actually make (Bill Gates, Bill Cosby, Robin Williams, to name a few), sick children and injured animals to those touching "memes" that ask you to "share if you are against (insert word here)" - drink driving, abuse, racism, cancer, bullying, etc. The underlying message is that if I don't share, I don't have a heart.

Of course I am against all those things ... but sharing a picture on Facebook isn't going to do anything to help the cause. No doctor is going to treat a child according to how many "likes" they get and sharing pictures of injured animals does nothing except cause distress to animal lovers who see them. Trying to push me into sharing something if I'm against bullying is a form of bullying in itself - a bit ironic really.

That's not to say I don't like all the memes I see. The difference is, if I want to share a lovely poem that has the usual "Share if..." at the bottom of it, I will type it out myself as a status update, or even google the poem - chances are it can be found on another picture, without the added line, and that's the one I'll share.

I was joking just last week that I am probably getting a reputation as a "hoax-buster" among my friends. The person I was speaking to immediately responded with "Yes, you are!". I was a bit hurt by this, to start with. I don't like to think I am annoying anyone by pointing out if something they have shared isn't true - I guess I prefer to think that I'm being helpful. My usual response is to share a link to an article as proof that something is fake, along with a friendly message and a smiley face emoticon so they know I'm not trying to upset them (because we all know a smiley face fixes everything, right?).

Then, when I thought about it more, I realised that I was being too sensitive. There are plenty of other people out there who share their opinions with others without a second thought for whether they are offending anyone. If anything, I've always been a bit mousy and shy about having my own opinions, especially if others disagree with them. So I am now happy to be a hoax-buster. I suppose it could be considered a form of research - which, if I'd discovered this enjoyment earlier, could have led to all sorts of interesting career opportunities too!

I try not to comment too often - I know that can be annoying, just like someone picking others up on their spelling all the time. That's another gripe of mine actually - incorrect spelling - but I am proud to say I've managed to turn a blind eye for the most part where Facebook is concerned.

I do prefer not to take things too seriously, including Facebook. When it comes to the Share memes, I generally just scroll past without commenting at all. I often get a giggle at seeing just how many hoaxes do the rounds over and over again. I am also aware that none of my friends would knowingly share anything false - they really think they're helping in some way, and who can blame them for that?

The Caveman used to call me "Madam Teacher" (he is a terrible speller, so he has often found himself on the receiving end of my corrections!), but now it's "Madam Google". I guess there are worse things to be called.

Oh, time to end with a smiley ... :-)

Easter Fun

It's Easter and my kids have just completed a treasure hunt. Not for the eggs the Easter Bunny brings - they will come later in the day and just be scattered across the floor while the kids are playing outside. The treasure hunt was for the chocolate treat their Dad and I bought them.

Rather than just give them their eggs/bunnies, we will hand the kids a clue written on a piece of paper. Something like "Look inside the washing machine". There they will find the next clue ... and so on. It makes it so much fun for everyone, the kids love following the clues and we love watching them run around the house wondering if the next clue will give the location of the "prize".

We discovered the treasure hunt when our teenager was in Preschool. He was having some trouble learning his words and we wanted to help. We did the usual trick of labeling objects around the house, little stickers everywhere with "door", "shelf", "bed", etc, written on them. At some point though, we came up with the idea of a treasure hunt - something that would really get his interest and inspire him to WANT to read the words on the paper. I went and bought him a very cheap little toy and we buried it in a box in the sandpit. Then I wrote out the clues (at his age then, I drew pictures beside the words to help him). He loved it, following each clue until he dug up his prize from the sand. It was a lot of fun for him and, as a reading activity, it worked a treat.

Since then, treasure hunts have been a semi-regular feature in the Crazy Cave. We have used it for birthday presents and other special occasions, as well as just for a fun activity every now and then.

For today's hunt, I changed things up a little. Usually the three kids walk around as a group, finding the clues and reading them together until they get to the prize. The older two are great at helping their little brother with the clues (and of course he is now the one who benefits most from this exercise as a reading activity).

This time I had them working in a group for the first half dozen clues, then they found one that said they should each look under their own pillow. From there, they had separate clues to follow, which turned out to be even more fun - they were all moving in different directions and at different speeds. It was great to just watch and enjoy their enthusiasm - which is always the best part for parents.

When the Easter Bunny comes, he'll scatter a few dozen small eggs on the floor which the kids will then race around collecting when they come in and see them there. It's still the main event, but maybe on a smaller scale than in most homes. Partly because we only have one "believer" in the house - although his big brother and sister are great at playing along and getting into the spirit of the day for him - and also because it's the way we've always done it.

Mythical creatures don't get a lot of credit in our house, they are more of a token symbol (I'm the same about Santa, actually ... he only fills the stockings. Maybe it's selfish, but I like the kids to know the big expensive gifts come from us!).

I wish you all a very happy Easter, whether you celebrate it from a religious perspective or just as a devoted chocoholic like me :-)

On a Serious Note ...

 
It's time for a serious blog. This one is about my man having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I started typing about it a few weeks ago, but decided not to share it because it was so long (and depressing to read - I must have needed to vent that day!). The reality is though, living with a long-term chronic illness is not easy ... for the sufferer or their loved ones.

So, since this is my blog and what I share here may be helpful to someone else, I have decided to share an insight into our life with anyone who would care to read on ...

The Caveman has had CFS since his mid-twenties - around fifteen years now. It started with a bout of Glandular Fever a few years before that, which apparently caused what the doctors called "Cyclic Fatigue" ... meaning simply that symptoms of chronic fatigue came and went.

He would be well for a while, settle into a new job, then come down with CFS and lose that job as a result, be well again a few months later, find a new job, then come down with it again .... well, you get the idea. Most employers don't have a lot of patience with a worker who just can't get himself out of bed in the morning because of an "invisible" illness.

CFS is not a very well understood condition and was even less so back in the nineties. A lot of people just didn't believe it was a real condition, so the reaction my man got from employers was also exhibited by his friends, associates and even family members, who thought he was being lazy and should try harder. Never mind that, when I first met him, he had a great work ethic. He had a very physical job and loved it.  He was also incredibly fit, going to the gym regularly and playing competitive cricket every weekend - he was a formidable fast bowler - the epitome of the expression "work hard, play hard".
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After being cyclic for a period of time, it progressed into full-blown CFS. In the years since then, I have lost count of the number of doctors he has seen and blood tests he has had, with no clear answers as to what causes this or what can be done about it. Then there are all the times well-meaning people have said to us, "Oh, I knew someone who had that and they got rid of it by trying (insert random alternative therapy here)". We know it's natural for people to share ideas that they really believe will work and we are still open to suggestions. The fact is, every case is different and, after all these years, we haven't come across any definitive cure. He has tried dietary changes, lifestyle changes, hot/cold therapy, various vitamin supplements, crystals, massage, counselling (in case it was being triggered by something emotional) ... the list goes on. No-one can explain why he has had it for so long either.

CFS has had a huge impact on the Caveman's self-esteem and confidence. He is on a pension as he hasn't been able to work for years. He has suffered from severe depression as he came to terms with not being able to work and provide for his family. He has put on weight, but it is a struggle for him to perform even basic regular exercise to get rid of it. He still plays cricket with a local team during Summer, to try to maintain some level of fitness and self-belief, but he has had to give up fast bowling and focus more on batting - he has become a big hitter of the ball so that he doesn't have to do much running between the wickets. He gets tired, angry, frustrated and downright moody at times, because he can't live the life he wants to.

As for the impact on the rest of us ... well, I get tired and frustrated too. We joke that he is my fourth child, and it's true that I often have to look after him as well as the kids. The fact that he is at home full-time, while I've been a full-time mum, meant a major adjustment to our relationship - most couples get a break from each other and the "daily grind" for at least a few hours a day. I sometimes envy my friends who have fit, healthy husbands - I know they don't cringe at the thought of other people asking what their man does for a living. Then I feel guilty, as though I am letting my husband down by even thinking that way.

It's hard on the kids as well. They know their Dad can't do a lot of running around with them. They don't get to see him going off to work every day like all the other Dads. They know that, because of the lack of work income, we can't afford to do a lot of the great things they see their friends doing. As much as we've tried to shield them from it, they have even heard other people talk about what their much-loved Dad "should" be able to do.

Those things hurt. The Caveman worries enough about the example he sets for our kids. Like any decent father, he just wants to be a good role model for them.

Despite all this, we do look for the positives. He enjoys being a full-time Dad. He has seen milestones that other Dads often miss out on. When he has the energy, he helps out at school and with any other activities our kids are involved in. He is a good husband - my best friend, in fact - which means us being together 24/7 is not always the hardship it might be for some couples. He is very supportive of my efforts to get back into the workforce and I know that, if I get a job that doesn't fit in with school hours, he will pick up the slack for me where the kids are concerned.

He is a genuinely funny guy, as well as being easy to talk to, and we usually find something to laugh about in almost any situation. When we have had an added hardship to deal with - my post natal depression, his father's death - I have admired the inner strength he has shown. He is optimistic about getting healthier (and back to work) as time goes on and I have faith in him achieving that goal.

Of course there are difficulties, especially if he is having a particularly bad day, but we work through them together. In many ways, this experience has made us stronger as a couple and closer as a family.

This journey through CFS has a big impact on our day-to-day lives, as well as our relationships with other people. We have learned to take each day as it comes and accept that there will always be others who refuse to believe it's really that bad - it's another one of those experiences you just don't understand unless you go through it yourself (and we wouldn't wish it on anyone).

Ours is certainly not the only family living with a chronic illness, nor do we have the worst one to deal with. We work on keeping our sense of humour and being thankful for what we do have ... making the most of the life we have now and trusting that there is a brighter future ahead.

But it said Anti Burst ...

Here in the Crazy Cave, we have recently re-discovered exercise (or balance) balls. You know, the big inflatable balls that you sit on and do exercises (to strengthen your core muscles, among other things).

I say "re-discovered" because I had one about ten years ago. I absolutely loved it for the couple of months that I used it daily - I was so toned and fit! Then the ball developed a leak. As it slowly deflated (and I didn't rush out and buy another one), my interest waned. Bad move ... I lost all that beautiful muscle tone I'd worked so hard to achieve.

Not that I really cared at the time, life was so busy with a house renovation and two small children to take care of. I looked back fondly on my time with my ball as one of those exercise "fads" that we all experience at some point.

Back to the present ... a little before Christmas, the Caveman and I were discussing the back pain he had been experiencing. We figured out that the seat he was sitting on while using the computer was probably causing the problem. Our solution was to buy a couple of exercise balls, thinking that they would be better for posture while sitting at the computer and they could be used for fitness as an added bonus.

It was a brilliant idea. The Caveman was absolutely thrilled with his new "computer chair" and the spare one we got was well used by the kids and myself too - it made a great spare seat in front of the telly AND we got to exercise with it as well!

Also, of course, it gave the boys in the house (and I include the Caveman in this) much cause for lots of jokes referring to "their balls".

Then the hot season arrived. In our research before buying the balls we had double checked things like what size ball you should have for your height and how firm the balls should be when fully inflated. We even made sure we bought the "Anti Burst!!" type. What we didn't find out was that it is a good idea to release some air from the balls in hot or humid weather, as they expand in the heat.

This was a lesson learned the hard way. I arrived home from a trip into town recently, only to be greeted by my children with giggled warnings. "Mum, whatever you do, don't laugh at Dad when he tells you what happened while you were gone." What?? I went inside to check on the Caveman, only to be told that his ball had burst in the heat. Worse, he had been sitting on it at the time.

Luckily my man can laugh at himself. He wasn't offended by the fact that I couldn't help chuckling as he regaled me with the dramatic story of his sudden trip to the floor, landing on his hip. There he was, concentrating intently on something he was reading on the screen, when all of a sudden .. BANG! Followed quickly by THUMP as he hit the floor. He hit his elbow on the way down but was otherwise okay. Stunned, but okay.

We still have the spare ball, which is used mostly by our teenager, but even he has fallen off it and bruised his tailbone.

The moral of the story is that exercise balls are great for improving core strength and posture, as long as you're using them sensibly and remember to let out some air at the height of Summer.

It might take a while, but I'm sure one day the Caveman will consider sitting on one again.

All Toys Welcome

The Caveman was getting our kids into bed the other night when I heard him say "Stay in bed and settle down, or I'll take your Barbies away."

There is nothing unusual about this ... apart from the fact that he was standing in the doorway of our sons' room when he said it.

That's right ... one of our boys loves Barbie dolls. A room that has long been the domain of Thomas, Lego, Hot Wheels and various types of sporting gear has now been invaded by a group of small shapely blondes.

I've never been too picky about what our kids play with - if our daughter wants to build something with blocks, or race toy cars in the dirt, we're fine with that. If our boys want to wear dresses, or play with dolls or tea sets, that's fine too. The Caveman and I always figured it was better to not set gender-specific rules for them when it came to toys. It often turns out they will gravitate toward the more stereotypical items as they get older anyway; our boys both love construction and our girl went through the usual "Fairies and Princesses" phase that most girls seem to experience at some point.

So, it didn't bother me at all that our five year old got excited about his big sister culling her Barbie doll collection recently. He sat with her while she sorted through them, working out which ones she was happy to let go of, then patiently letting him choose which ones of those he would like to keep. He took his new responsibility as a doll-owner very seriously - when the sorting was done, they even put the Barbies in a tub and gave them a bath.

I have no idea what he plans to do with his new dolls ... he's going through a pretty strong "Star Wars" stage at the moment, so no doubt he will have them swinging lightsabers and using the Force on each other for weeks to come. On the other hand, he might build them some furniture out of Lego, or even have them riding his dinosaurs.

He is a great doll-owner, from my point of view. Unlike his sister, he isn't interested in all the accessories that go along with them, so I don't have to clean up (or trip over) little bits and pieces that have been left on the floor. The Barbies tend to stay naked too - he doesn't care about putting clothes on them, which is pretty much in line with his attitude toward clothing for himself!

He is such a character. I actually got some sneaky photos of him last week, running around in the back yard, in the mud, playing "Star Wars".  He was dressed in only a pair of undies, with a shower cap on his head and brandishing his toy lightsaber at imaginary figures as he went. It was a joy to watch. I do love seeing how kids get caught up in their own imaginations.

Those photos might come in handy in the future too ...

The Keys to my Fridge?

We currently have two cars.  For one of them we have three keys (one for each of us and a spare).  For our other car we have only one set of keys.  We had a second set, which we lost over a year ago and we still haven't got around to replacing.  That situation is changing very soon.

I had to make a mad dash home from the shops today, after discovering that I had two sets of car keys with me - one for the car I had driven to the shops and one for the car I had left at home for the Caveman to drive to his cricket match. That's right, the car with only one set of keys.

Luckily I had finished what I was doing at the shops, so I was able to leave immediately.  Also luckily, it was early enough that he hadn't had to turn the house upside down looking for the keys just yet, but I knew I was pushing it to get there in time.  I drove with visions in my head of my man getting very grumpy because the keys weren't hanging up where they should have been and then conducting a frantic search of each room in the house, getting more panicked by the minute.

I've seen this routine before.

You can imagine my relief when I got home to a very calm husband, who actually laughed when I told him I had the keys he needed.  It turned out I had confused the time he was meant to leave and he hadn't even thought about looking for keys yet!

It reminded me though, of another time we lost the car keys.  We only had one car at the time - you guessed it, that same car with only one set of keys.  I had been shopping for groceries, come home and put the shopping away.  The car wasn't needed again until the next day - again, for cricket.  It wasn't until the Caveman was about to walk out the door to go to his match that we noticed the keys were missing.

Madness ensued .. the whole family got involved, pockets and handbags were checked, we searched the table, benches, bedrooms, under the lounges, on top of the fridge and pantry, even inside the fridge and pantry.  Finally we accepted defeat and a phone call was made to a team mate who arrived, laughing, to give my poor frazzled man a ride to cricket in his car.

I waved goodbye to them as they drove away and went back inside the house to relax.  I figured the keys would turn up once I stopped stressing about where they were - and I was right.  A little while later one of the kids asked me for an apple, which jogged my memory ... a memory of juggling three or four bags of shopping at once as I entered the house the day before (in a hurry, as always) and of absentmindedly throwing my keys into the bag of apples.  Naturally.

It's been a long-running joke in our house, as we get older, that if something is lost you should check in the fridge. All joking aside though, I would have assumed that the missing item would be in plain sight on a shelf. Not this time. I went to the fridge, pulled out the crisper drawer and opened the bag of apples - and there were the car keys.  Well chilled, but otherwise unharmed.

After my sigh of relief came the realisation that I would have to call the Caveman and own up to my mistake ... knowing that he would take pleasure in telling all the other guys in his team.  It took me a while to live down the embarrassment of that day!

It's definitely time to organise that second set of keys.

Guinea Pigs vs Spiders

We got ourselves two more guinea pigs yesterday.  We now have five - all girls (we don't want any surprise babies!).

I didn't think we would do the guinea pig thing with our kids.  They seem to be a common pet among most families at some point, but they never held any interest for me.  I like dogs and cats.  The Caveman and I have also had a few budgies and goldfish along the way .. not to mention the other, more unusual creatures we've allowed our kids to take in.  We have cared for silkworms, various types of lizards, injured birds, a turtle that had wandered away from a creek and more "pet" spiders than I care to remember.

I used to have a phobia about spiders.  The very thought of a spider being in the same room as me would have the hair on the back of my neck standing up.  There was once a huntsman in our bedroom that the Caveman had to remove before I would even consider entering the room.  I stood in the doorway while he was attempting to catch it, with a container and lid, on the opposite wall and I still squealed every time it moved.  The strange thing was, despite my intense fear of them, I didn't like spiders being killed.  I understood that most would prefer to be outside anyway and, as long as that's where they were, they weren't doing me any harm.  Once that spider in the bedroom was released into the garden unharmed, I was happy.

Then there was the time we were driving along in our car and another huntsman crawled along the inside of my car door, right beside my arm. I saw it and completely freaked out, unbuckling my seat belt and launching myself into the Caveman's lap while he was driving!  Not a safe thing to do at all but in the panic of the moment my fear didn't allow a lot of room for sensible thought.  The car was an older style with a bench seat in the front, so scrambling over into the back seat wasn't really practical until we had pulled over and stopped (which my man managed very well, considering I was blocking most of his view).  That spider was also released unharmed, although I was left a little shaken and apologising profusely to a rather grumpy Caveman!

The cure for my phobia came in the form of our first child, now our teenager.  I didn't want to pass on my phobia to him, so I learned to stay very calm if he was nearby when I saw a spider.  As it turned out, he did better than not catching my fear - he actually developed a love for the creatures.  As a toddler he would often come to me saying, "Mummy, look what I found!", only to open up his chubby little hand and show me a spider he'd picked up in the garden.  (Of course, he admits now that he was bitten by quite a few ... it's just lucky they weren't deadly).

Our solution was to buy him a bug catcher - it meant he could catch spiders "hands-free" and keep them for a few days before releasing them.  We would catch moths to drop into the bug catcher for our "pet" to eat and, to my surprise, even I started to find spiders more interesting.

I guess it's true that the best way to overcome your fears is to face them head on.  Through trying not to pass on my phobia and learning more about spiders, I ended up being much more comfortable with them than I ever expected.  I still don't like them in the house but, if I do see one, I don't freak out and I am happy to do the "catch and release" myself (most of the time anyway).

I think, after some of the pets we've had, I can be quite happy with guinea pigs!