Pancakes! May 28, 2008

Not that I want to bore anybody with stories of my children but yesterday was a big day for my wee one!

He made his first journey across the lounge floor… it was a crawl, in a manner of speaking, crossed with a type of ‘bunny hop’ motion but nevertheless – he moved. Even though I rejoice in him reaching this milestone it is with a slight pang of sadness. My baby is growing up and as he is possibly my last baby I am trying to internalise every moment. Baby gurgles, chuckles and smells. Little hands and feet.

I was lamenting on his ‘BIG’ day with my mother over lunch, while feeding ‘Wee One’ his baby ’sludge’ when I felt the spoon hit something a little harder than gums. Upon investigation it was confirmed that we had our first nipper!

Mom promptly ordered pancakes with our coffee.  I am not sure where this ‘tradition’ comes from but apparently when a baby gets his first tooth one eats pancakes and I am not one to dispute tradition….. especially when it involves cinnamon and sugar.

Hooray for traditions!

 

 

My Blog Title… May 26, 2008

I am a South African woman, mother of two and wife who talks to herself.  I admit it.  I talk to myself in the middle of Woolworths, in the car and in my kitchen.  While most people sing in the shower, I talk.  Now before you ask me what brightly coloured pills I am popping let me justify my behaviour.  It’s therapy.  I have no need for ‘the couch’ with my therapist gently nodding at my twittering, all they do is allow us to discover ourselves… at a fortune per hour!  So there it is, the reason for my blog.  I shall use this literary outlet as my own cathartic expression.

As for my title….. what else do you think a woman does when she talks to herself, it’s usually all a load of twaddle and in the words of my Afrikaans ancestors…. twak!

I ask forgiveness beforehand at my pathetic grammar and sometimes bad language use. My apostrophes and comma’s may rarely be in the right place but for me to be concerned about that would take all the fun out of this and send me back to my first semester at Uni where I felt like I was learning my mother tongue as a foreign language.  Hooray for spell check!

“Ping!” My time is up.