It has been more than two years since my last blog post! There are a couple of headlines. First of all: Puss, our wise old gentleman, is no longer with us. His wee body gave up after 19 years and we had to let him pass. But we were happy we had given him a comfortable, not to say cushy, home for his final couple of years.
The bigger news: we we joined last July by our very own Baby Girl, which I think should sufficiently explain the length of my online silence. While I don’t intend this to turn into a parenting blog, I’m sure the experience of parenthood with ME/CFS will come up from time to time.
So, what inspired me to fire up the blog again after two years? Inspiration actually has less to do with it than impotent rage. You know those individually targeted adverts that Facebook and Twitter spring like a delightful, stalker-esquire surprise every so often, just to remind you that Big Brother is watching? The two below appeared on my accounts, one on each platform, the other day. I can only apologise for the huge size of the images. I do not have the energy to learn how to reduce them today.
I don’t know how the algorithms used to calculate who gets which adverts operate, but I have some news for Twitter and Facebook. On the strength of these adverts, those algorithms are not working. The only way I can imagine we arrived here is that I gave birth to a baby within the last year, and that indicates to advertisers a non-optional paranoia about my stomach region. Boy, could they be more wrong?
I know I haven’t always been the most body-confident person, but these days it’s less about body confidence and more about I-don’t-have-time-to-think-about-such-nonsense. Things my body has done in the last eighteen-plus months: grown a baby; given birth to a baby; recovered from giving birth to a baby; produced milk for baby; fed baby; carried baby; clothed baby; bathed baby; changed baby’s nappies; comforted baby through illness; rocked baby to sleep; held baby while she screamed for no reason; played with baby; acted as makeshift bed for baby when she wouldn’t sleep in her actual bed; pushed baby in pram; taught baby to eat; taught baby to swim. I could go on. I haven’t managed to do much in the way of cooking or cleaning or thinking clearly because that is what happens when you add a baby to ME/CFS. But I think you get the idea. If I spare any thoughts for my body nowadays, these are the things I think about. My body is fine. It is better than fine. It is physically sustaining another human being and if advertisers or anyone else think they are going to make money by trying to make me feel bad about perfectly normal belly curves or sell me a corset (in the 21st century??) then their computers need a serious upgrade.