Archive for the ‘“parenting” or something resembling it’ Category

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! 🙂


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?


I clearly remember my very own Beloved Dad instructing me to select my husband for the Father he would be – he felt it was the true measure of a man… Since time immemorial, I did as 16-year-olds have always done – these words of wisdom were disdainfully dimissed, not forgetting the accompanying rolling eyes, shaking head, clicking tongue and patronising “Oh Dad!” at the woeful naivete of the “Aged”. 

After all, it was common knowledge that the only boy worth a second glance came with:

  • Driver’s Licence (fake or real – no biggie)
  • Pocket-money for beer for 2
  • Who at the face of it could maintain feigned innocence, yet appear as if he would defend my honour and virtue to the death…
  • This facade (* and ** – before I digress, yet again) need only be maintained until he pulled “his” car out of my folks driveway.  The very same car he’d just minutes before shifted into neutral and rolled out of his mum’s garage shortly after his folks  had settled down in front of the telly with their evening cuppa (yet more naive “Ageds”)!  (more…)

From the minute Nate was able to string two words together he has had a notably excellent command of the English language and a versatile vocabulary far beyond his years. Over the years his peers have speedily caught up – I, however, are more inclined to believe that he has stagnated when it comes to proper English largely because his focus has shifted to words that refer to risque body parts, gaseous body emissions, mucous and/or phlegm, anything to do with toilets and parts of male/female anatomy related to human reproduction.* So “Yes!” his current vocab and grammar developement matches that of any other cheeky-potty-mouthed 5-year-old.

One Sunday afternoon he came up with my hands-down favourite Nate’ism – to this day it gives me the warm fuzzies and brings a wide smile to myface when I picture the wide-eyed innocence of delivery.


I need to tell you a little more about Nate and take you back to “The Family Bank Heist”* which occurred some 6 months back.

Nate at 5½ is obsessed with MONEY!  A brand-new bank note might need to be returned to the Reserve Bank to be removed from circulation within 12 hours of it coming into his possession.  He’ll count 3 x R10 notes hundreds of times and deeply sniff at each note in an attempt to ascertain where they’ve been before (heave – not something I’ve ever really wanted to scrutinize).   Once above 2 exercises are complete, he will try to con you into swopping said 3 x R10s for a crispy new R50. For a guy who at 3 could ALMOST count to 30**, I find it amazing that he cannot with any semblance of accuracy divide a packet of Astro’s equitably between him and his brother.  His numeracy skills at times seem to be astutely skewed in his favour.  After due consideration, perhaps Fractions and Visual Maths are more his “thang” – just try to give him any but the largest slice of pizza from the box or be a miniscule crumb out on sharing the last chocolate cupcake.  But I digress… (I am prone to this – sorry about that!) (more…)

I have a friend who is an accomplished and brilliant (wait let me go look up the term and spelling so I do her justice) Neanderthal Geneticist. I desperately need her to change the focus of her research and look into a theory for me. I’m convinced that early humans never slept! NEVER, there was no need to… that is … until… some sucker-for-punishment-early-humans decided for some unknown reason to have off-spring and voila the concept of BED-TIME was born! I can feel it in my water (tm my mum) I’m right – even before she proves without a doubt. So I’m confidently and prematurely going to give a “big-up” to early knuckle-dragging-man-saggy-boob-dragging woman and say “THANK-YOU!” because without this concept I’d be putting on my very best impression of doolaaliness and begging the local sanitarium to grant me asylum…