I happened upon this lovely new blog which immediately spoke to me : It’s all about some chick – a mother of 2, my age-ish, wife, human being, shoulder length hair in her photo – see the parallels?  Well she embarked on a quest for self-reliance, physical and emotional strength!  I felt an immediate affinity towards this idea, so I’ve not only subscribed but I reckon I’ll start at the beginning and when something she or somebody else has to say strikes a chord with me, I’ll try to incorporate that into my life.

Slow and steady wins the race!  (I’m good at that – starting slowly… sloth-like, if you will … sometimes so slowly it’s immensely difficult to recognise I’ve even started at all)!  This week’s goal:


At the office : I’m going to take the stairs instead of using the elevator!  Nuff said!


At home : I’m going to talk less!  I think my kids will respond better to a mother who is clear and concise as opposed to a long-winded nag-bag who is prone to long soliloquiy’s.  Nobody really listens when all you always do is talk, talk, talk, talk, talk!  I’m going to try and use single words to get my kids to do what I’d like them to do!  I’ll let you know how that works for me – apparently it’s a recognised parenting technique – let’s hope my kids recognise it! 🙂


of first frogmarches…

Posted: July 26, 2011 in Uncategorized

I love Mondaysrephrase…I LOVE Monday EVENINGS… WHY?

  • I have to brace myself for the home-time greeting to attempt to catch Nate running helter-skelter at me full-tilt,
  • the kids are not yet week-weary so whining and whinging is kept to a minimum,
  • because of the absence of said whining and whinging  there is always time for tickles and tomfoolery, and
  • once I’ve tucked my poppets in I turn around and blow them kisses instead of heaving a sigh of relief.

The “Monday Evening” is not a universal law, so there are always going to be exception.  Cue – Monday, 25th July 2011.



6-year old Nate pressed this cutsie little note into the palm of my hand when collecting him from aftercare.  Before I continue, I’d like to draw your attention to the opportune use of the thrass-font and the cleverly placed toilet paper cartoon character – PURE GENIUS!  Goes to show that there is opportunity for learning in each and every situation, but I digress…


In a voice audible to only canines, extra-terrestrial space-craft and children in deep trouble I seethe “Right… let’s go then!”  Our little parade was bolstered by a group of 5 or 6 kids who I think smelt a parental kakking-out of epic proportions.  We enter the amenities, I look around – all seems in order!  Confused, I turn to Nate who sheepishly extends his index finger very slowly towards the roof.  My son … (who it has to be said is unlikely to bowl a Yorker for the Proteas, ain’t probably going to be the next ace Striker for Bafana-Bafana nor going serve up Ace after Ace at Wimbledon)… that son… yes… THAT ONE … has with remarkable accuracy managed to place 3 or 4 water-soaked toilet-paper balls on the roof of the boys bogs.  By now there is a crowd (word travels fast through the aftercare grape-vine)… I gathered myself, calmly put on the face-book pout* and with nostrils aflare (so wide there is a very real danger I might actually successfully lift-off), I tell Nate “we will speak about this at home!”


Blah blah blah … It Was An Accident… blah blah blah … I Wasn’t My Idea … blah blah blah… Cut to the Punishment Discipline and Corrective Behavior Part…  It was decided that there would be no TV, dessert nor iPod for the evening.  To some it may seem rather a light punishment but the parental reasoning was that Nate had assured us that the following day he was due to appear before the deputy-principal to answer for his actions.  The Dad and I reasoned that standing in front of her, he would need to (little) man-up and take responsibility for his transgressions – to us this would suffice.  End of story… or so one would think… but this is NATE we’re talking about – do not be lulled into a false sense of security.


Young Master Nate for all his good natured deviousness, street-smarts and resourcefulness is also a “relatively” honest young man.  I use the word relatively because it might take some time for his Jiminy Cricket (conscience) to activate but eventually it does.  This morning, in between lamentimg the oats I’m making him eat, he tries to surreptitiously slip in “Mummy, by the way, I thought you should know…I don’t think we’re ACTUALLY going to see D-J!  I think H (his teacher) said we would go if we did it again!”  The Pout returned, the dogs hid behind the couch at the sight of Nostrils-Aflare and this time there was also The Gnashing of Teeth (quite apocalyptic).  After inhaling and exhaling 5 times, I managed to get out a caustic “I’ll talk to H about it!”


Nate generally stands out in a crowd, but with amazing speed and stealth he managed to disappear into a sea of 6-year-olds the minute we reached the pre-school grounds this morning.  Smart move Bud, wize beyond your years!   I, in the meantime, sought out his teacher.  H has a very good understanding of young Nate (she’s a pro having raised 3 boys herself)… I explained how yesterday’s prank had been further compounded by a bald-faced lie further deception and camouflage.  After sharing a good laugh about the ingenuity of his ruse, she was immediately accommodating when I enquired as to whether she would be willing to find out whether D-J could clear 5 minutes in her diary to see Nathan today.  So YES… you read right… the very first time Nate will be frog-marched to the principal’s office for a dressing down will be because his mother orchestrated it.


As Sir Walter Scott would say:



It’s a very small weapons arsenal we as parents are given to ensure we raise our children right… we do what we can with what we have!




*You KNOW the pout I’m talking about!!! Go look at your friends’ photo’s… some of them are incapable of having a photo taken that doesn’t include bum out, boobs to the ceiling and THE POUT!  The FB-Pout is a Universal Law.

or at least, that’s what it feels like.  So it’s 00h37 and I’m about to start a questionnaire (I can’t be arsed to check that spelling right now  – for those with SSD aka Sensitive Spelling Dispositions, my undertaking to “correct it in my retirement!” will just have to do, along with the assurance that it’s 2nd only to watching a Highveld Electrical Storm on my Bucket List!  No BS!)

So yup, I’d “link Tanya” if I knew which poxy icon to use on this dashboard-thingy (I think that’s the blogger terminology for inserting somebody into your blogpost or it might as well be “track-back or ping-back”… none of which I know the meaning of incidentally).  So I’ll just do it the old-fashioned way and say you can find Tanya at intermittentblogger.wordpress.com.  I’d also link my previous post on my Bucket List*.  But yar, it seems aforementioned Bucket List is growing rapidly, compliments of today’s post and I haven’t really even started it properly… Sh*t, perhaps it would be prudent to just end this post right here before I fill up my Golden Years of 60 thru 65 with correcting spelling and learning “linkage” on WordPress.  But I digress…

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Back in 1991, there was a choice to be made.  There was no sitting on the fence with this one.  It was one or the other, black or white – no grey.  I chose wisely… no doubt!

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I prefer to grab opportunities when they come-a-knockin’.  For a “routine-queen” this is unusual, I think!  I’m not particularly big on “orchestrated life-changing experiences”.  To me spontenaity is essential in an experience which might change me fundamentally and-all!

But apparently (as I’ve been informed), I need one and it’s quite a dire predicament that I don’t have one!  So OK, earlier this week I had a sort of micro-epiphany… which surprisingly gave me 2 things to put on SANDI’S BUCKET LIST!

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Bliksem!  Die donnerse Vitamiene kap my vir 'n Ses!

Bliksem! Die donnerse Vitamiene kap my vir 'n Ses!

So … Morné van Wyk reckons he mistook a barbituate for a vit-a-min.  My initial reaction – “Yeah right Buddy!  Spin (sic) us another one Ben Johnson”.

But then I remembered, I recently (also accidently) drugged my Mummy into oblivion !  Granny Ireland* was spending a week with us recouperating from painful knee-replacement surgery.  The day I brought her home from the hospital,**  I decided that my Mum was perhaps getting a  little over-zippy with her pain killers (because you know mos I’ve had half a dozen knee-replacements and didn’t need more than half a panado for pain  :roll: ).  Being the organisational control freak  concerned daughter that I am, I confiscate gather all her meds under the guise of making her life easer by separating them into those little pill organisers, ready and waiting for her to take when needed.

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mr potty-mouth

Posted: March 16, 2011 in Jamie'isms
This morning I had to referee a skirmish between Nate and Jamie.
Long Story Short – Jamie had something of Nate’s .. Nate wanted to reclaim ownership of it (but only after seeing Jamie having big-fun with said piece of plastic crap) … Jamie wouldn’t give up said piece of plastic crap  … so *are you ready to rumble?* Nate punched Jamie in the stomach … FFWD …  blah blah blah …  punishment punishment punishment… finish discussion with Nate (all the while Jamie’s not moved from the toy-room, doing the fake moany cry in  a concerted effort to have Nate meted out a more severe punishment.

Much excitement in our home this morning!  I haven’t seen breakfast gobbled at lightening speed, teeth-brushed without so much as a request from mum… we didn’t even have to play “Guess-if-I’m-Commando-or-Packing-Undies!” today!  Why?  Because today Nate was in a supersonic rush to get to school…

If you know Nate, you know he LOVES dressing up!  I use the word LOVES for lack of a better description…  Always has… it’s just a thing with him!  We go to a birthday party, and before he’s hit the treats and sweets table like normal sugar-loving 5 year olds, our Nate has scouted out the host’s bedroom and ransacked the room for some sort of disguise or dress-up paraphernalia, anything he can lay his hands on!*  

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Look, in the past I’ve been none too complimentary about the Spar.  And I think with fair reason, the fresh produce in the Cape stores (for the most part) leaves much to be desired.  But no more…  I owe Spar BIG TIME!

To say it’s been a tough week is to be likening a tsunami to the tide coming in… It’s been rough!  Outlook issues which very nearly bliksemed the hell out of 11 years worth of organisation, notes and research, days which have run out of hours, children with so many activities that I need to appoint a full-time Social Director to our Family’s Board, standstill traffic on my mountain pass and running out of cigarettes during said-traffic… agh, it goes on and on!  I don’t like it when “everyday life” gets in the way of my pre-ordained perfectly ordered schedule.  How dare it?

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I’ve just recently joined a Book Club.  This is (of course) vastly differentiated from my other extra-curricular actibity – The Mum’s Night Out Club (although strangely enough the membership list seems alarmingly similar)! 🙂   Last Thursday night was our inaugural gathering of the wines minds.  To even loosely describe it as a “Literary Think Tank” would be somewhat deceitful… but BOOKS there were, and in fairness we did spend a smidgeon of the evening talking about books (mostly when our host’s husband was in earshot)…

Looking back on our evening, I would say it was a resounding success.  We got to the nitty-gritty of what a book club is all about – and EVERYBODY knows that it’s not about books – we laughed, we smiled, we commiserated, we shared and we got to know eachother.  I very much look forward to next month’s meeting!

Downside – The little person knocking at the inside of my skull with a pick-axe didn’t refrain from doing so till sometime on Friday night!  URGH!