Can We “CTRL ALT DEL” August Please? September 1, 2009

Helloooo!!!  Anybody still there??? 

Here on the East Coast we could not have asked for a better day to welcome Spring, there was a slight touch of the humidity that drains many of us of our energies in the summer months and for the first time in weeks we could sit outside under the setting sun and watch our two boys run around in the garden.  With the promise of summer on the horizon and the heady scent of jasmine floating in through my windows I am finally in the right space to blow the dust off my keyboard!

I do have good reasons for being scarce, to be quite honest we could just ‘ctrl alt del ‘ August right off my annual calender!  Ever heard of the “Butterfly Effect”?  Well I attribute the chain of events that befell my lot squarely on the shoulders of Hubby!  From the moment he attempted the 90 degree drop  ramp into the bowlrider (which looks like a big empty swimming pool) at the local skateboard park and crack fractured his elbow my title of Domestic Goddess has been seriously tested by the men in my home!

As I just started getting used to my new job function, that of chauffeuring Hubby to work and back, I had to try and be the plumber/washing machine expert as well!  Please lets forgive our brothers who take on this ungodly task of bending under counters to turn in pipes etc, the plumbers crack is truly difficult to cover up, I’ve been there and will hold back my snigger’s from now on!  Bring on the one piece overalls!  Despite my best efforts and that of “Danny”, resident expert in washing machine repairs, my poor little washing machine could wash, rinse and spin no longer.  With jarring financial pain we had to replace him with a younger model who sounds like a jet plane during the spin cycle and beeps when the wash is finished, he even came with a name - “Maxx” which is printed in bright red on the front!

Finally life looked like it was going to move to a more normal biorhythm, as Hubby prepared to drive himself once more to and from work, (after four weeks), Eldest woke up with a temp and a dry cough.  Just as I resigned being a chauffeur I had to sign up and be Florence Nightingale.  For 3 days I took temperatures, ensured an increase in liquid intake and monitored for any signs of the dreaded ’swine flu’.  By Friday evening my Eldest was the picture of good health, well almost if one ignored the barking cough, and I prepared the children for bed, looking forward to night of relaxed sleep.  Hubby handed Wee One to me straight from his bath, he felt about as hot as cookies fresh from the oven!  Taking his temperature I looked in horror as it beeped 38.6! 

Saturday morning he woke up with a temperature of 39.6 and I knew that a relaxing weekend was shot to hell.  Eldest had passed his throat infection to his brother and on a weekend when Doctors go to their holiday homes next to trout dams up in the mountains and turn their phones to voice mail!!!   Lets just say that when Wee One finally turned a corner on Tuesday I felt like I had been dragged behind a car.  I had less than 3 hours sleep in 3 days, Wee One insisted on lying on my chest and he is not a petite build, my whole body ached!  By the end of the week he appeared to be on the up, just in time for my moms birthday weekend!  The boys seemed well and I sat  that Sunday breathing a sigh of relief …

That night Wee One was restless and Eldest started his croupy cough again.  Monday could not have been bluer, Eldest’s temperature had returned like a phoenix and Wee One’s ears had become inflamed as a secondary infection due to his prior throat infection.  Even Hubby looked sorry for me when he went off to work.  So back to the Doc we went and the ‘road to health’ started again. By Wednesday I kicked Eldest off to school and Friday Wee One followed suit.  “Why send a child to school for only one day?” you may ask. 

My sons decided to ‘thank’ me for all my nose wiping efforts and gave me the viral love which had dominated my life for nearly 3 weeks!!!  Mom deserved a morning to curl up under the duvet and feel sorry for herself! 

I hung my “Supermom” uniform behind the bathroom door, put on my dressing gown and grabbed a box of tissues, the ironing would have to wait…

Home James! Or Is It Jane? July 14, 2009

Hubby, against my wishes, bought our Eldest son his first skateboard at the age of 3 years old.  He came into the house with the glow of a father who had just given the ‘ultimate’ gift to his son.  I must admit that all the fancy toys I have bought, for their educational purposes, toys that were requested on Christmas and Birthday lists, all get played with seldom but a request to go outside to have “a little skate, just a little one Mom”, is a daily occurrence and the thrill has obviously not worn off.

Over the last few months Hubby has been taking Eldest to a a local skateboard park, not that much skateboarding gets done due to our child being as young as he is, but he loves to watch the more experienced skaters.  It was at about this time a few mutterings were made by Hubby that he would like his own skateboard so that he could skate with Eldest instead of standing around doing nothing. 

The surf and skate shops around our area have had blowout sales and it was on one of my ‘hunter gather’ expeditions that I found some skateboards that were discounted! As Hubby’s birthday was in a few months time I decided to buy him the skateboard he was obviously going to buy himself.  That evening he turned the board in his hands and a boyish glint could be seen in his eyes.  I had the glow of a wife who had finally presented her Hubby with an ultimate gift!  He was desperate to get out there and skate, even taking his board out in the empty parking lot at work for a secret session!

Last week Sunday we finally revealed to Eldest that his Dad has his own board and would finally be joining him on the ramps!  Not wanting to interrupt the Father and Son bonding moment I left them to it and took Wee One for a little stroll.  When I returned I found Hubby standing, watching Eldest skate and doing nothing!  As I approached I was met with a grimace of pain clearly displayed on Hubby’s face. 

 

“I came so left and fell on my arm.  I am sure it’s just muscular because I can move it!”

 

Mmm.  As the afternoon wore on Hubby’s pain increased and he got paler by the hour.  There was only one thing for it – Emergency Room.

He returned with his arm in a sling and was told that the x-rays would still be reviewed but nothing was obviously broken.  What a relief!  However he still could not put any pressure on the arm and I had a new title to add to my long list of  job descriptions, that of chauffeur!   Yesterday we learnt that there is a fracture and that Hubby needs to keep his arm in a sling for the next three weeks!  So for three weeks I will be doing Hubby’s work run and the kids school run.

On the drive home I heard the following conversation take place between father and son.

 

“Dad, I’m so sad you hurt your arm.”  sympathised Eldest.

 

“Don’t worry boy, it won’t be long and it will be fine.” reassured Hubby.

 

“But Dad, are you not going to skateboard with me anymore?”

 

“Of course I will!  Once my arm is okay we will go skateboarding again.”

 

“Thanks Dad, thanks.”

 

As I turned into our driveway I could only sigh and wonder what lay ahead of me and my extream sportsmen!

Party Panic & The Pinata! July 2, 2009

There is one day in every year that my Eldest son yearns for, this excludes Christmas and Easter, and that is his birthday.  We constantly get asked how old he is and “Four Years Old” has never been good enough, he has always been 4 and a quarter, 4 and a half or 4 and three quarters as the year progressed.

Now most kids get excited about their birthdays and are quite happy for their moms to lay a table of sweets and get on with it but my son plans his birthday literally a year in advance!  After his fourth birthday I was informed what the theme of his fifth birthday would be – the boy didn’t waiver on that and as this particular Superhero is seen as ‘unpopular’ at the moment finding party themed material became impossible!  The real humdinger of a request was that this year he wanted a Pinata – and not just any Pinata – it had to be his Superhero of choice.

Thank goodness for the Internet as this very important ‘guest’ was ordered in Gauteng, who arrived 2 weeks before the big day and for his safe keeping our Superhero Pinata slept in my bedroom out of my overexcited sons reach!

The day of the party finally arrived – I managed to paint signage, find colour co-ordinated balloons, book the jumping castle, shuddered as almost every child we invited was going to attend - all 32 of them including the addition of their siblings and the weather was good!

My Eldest was ecstatic but the excitement only increased when it was time to ’smack’ the pinata!  My main concern was that none of our party guests would become an additional pinata – so I made sure the children were lined up a safe distance away from the child with the stick!  When our Superhero finally succumbed to his fate, the children dropped to their knees with glee as it ‘rained’ sweets and treats, the mothers looked on glumly knowing that the rest of Saturday afternoon would be sugar induced mayhem, the fathers knew that they would have to corker for a pinata at their kids next birthday and I sadly picked up our fallen ‘Superhero’.

I had grown quite fond of the paper mache little chap.

“Nigella” And The Rye… May 12, 2009

In my dream world I would love to have the cooking skills of Nigella Lawson.  Firstly, she is left alone in her kitchen without interruption unlike myself who, while chopping vegetables, is trying to prevent Wee One from getting hold of the bread knife by keeping the cutlery drawer closed with my hip !  Secondly, the woman always has the ingredients needed to cook her masterpieces!  Honestly!  Have you watched her cooking show?  Right down to the ready made vanilla sugar and pancake mix!  Forward planning is not my forte and so I tend to substitute, which I can justify by saying that my cooking ‘evolves’ till it arrives at the dinner table.  Thirdly, she puts it all together so effortlessly whereas I tend to chase the egg yolk around the counter and my kitchen floor looks like some form of abstract art!  Fourthly, (and the list could go on), have any of you seen Nigella wash a dish? ….  Exactly! 

Since entering the career of Wife, Housekeeper, Cook , Mother, Nanny and Laundromat I have become embarrassing with the meals I literally throw together in between the mayhem.  I have become the queen of  ‘one pot cooking’ , so simple and less dishes.  My other new found friend in the kitchen is something called a slow cooker. For once my stews are edible!  I know my tools, I know the product and together we produce somewhat nutritious dinners for the family…. until Monday.

Hubby went on a wee shopping spree at the local health shop and came back bearing gifts!   Yes, a gift for me, and no it was not essential oils, Bach Rescue Remedy or some organic soap, it was pasta and not the type ‘Mama’ is used to cooking with!  We were presented with rice pasta twists and rye macaroni. Mmm.

The rice pasta twists didn’t scare me one jot, it looked like any other no name branded pasta you would find at your local supermarket but the rye macaroni had me stumped.  It was shaped like macaroni but it was a dark brown colour and somehow brown mac and cheese just didn’t do it for me.  I needed time and definitely forward planning to attempt the new visitor in my kitchen.

This afternoon, while the kids napped, I went to work, chopping veggies, frying mince, making pasta sauce and cheese sauce, layered the lot, sprinkled with mozzarella cheese and bunged it in the oven.  I produced my rye pasta bake with flair and held my breath as my harshest critic held his plastic lime green spoon in his hand.  Eldest, all of nearly 5 years old, slowly went to work and only managed to extract one tiny piece of onion, the rest of the veggies went unnoticed and I was rewarded with a clean plate!

As I washed up my last dish this evening I must admit I felt a bit of a “Nigella”……

Hop Hop Hop!!! April 4, 2009

Our schools have closed for the Easter Holidays but not before they filled our children’s little minds with hopping Easter Bunnies and chocolate eggs!  We have been sent home Easter masks, baskets and other arts and crafts just to ensure that the Easter spirit does not wane in our household!

Every night, for the past two weeks as I kissed my Eldest goodnight, he would try to engage me in another one of his sneaky schemes to ‘trick’ the Easter Bunny!  Every now and then he has a surge of excitement that tonight is the magical night when the Easter Bunny will make his appearance and we have to dash his hopes by informing him that the Easter Bunny is still very busy making chocolate eggs for the boys and girls of the world.

It was with this realisation that I, mother of the household aka Father Christmas and my current future role of Easter Bunny had to dash off to the shops to stock up on our Easter eggs, rather today than next Saturday!  So, as I type, my little secret stash of chocolate eggs is safely hidden away, the pressure is off!  Or is it?

My sons have inherited a most hideous gene called an ‘early riser’ from my husbands double helix!  Thankfully,  Hubby pays for his sins and gets up with the team at the unearthly hour of 5:30am allowing moi an extra hour of ‘zuzz’ time before the smell of java pulls me from my slumber.  However, this year I have to break the pattern and awaken with the sparrows as I ‘hop’ around the garden, in a half asleep state,  finding good hiding places for the precious choccie eggs!  I have heard that some Easter Bunnies hide their eggs before they go to sleep at night but unfortunately for me this is not an option due to a troop of monkeys that use our garden as part of their morning stroll!  Can you imagine the drama?  Monkeys whooping with joy as they swoop down from the trees, collecting the chocolate eggs, ripping them open and gorging themselves leaving my boys to wake up to a multicoloured lawn of just shiny papers?  An Easter nightmare!

So next Sunday morning, while you are all tucked up in bed, think of those who will be up at the crack of dawn keeping dream of the Easter Bunny and his chocolate eggs alive!

To Sink Or Swim March 19, 2009

My Eldest son, from the age of 3, has expressed a deep need to skateboard and surf.  Now before you start thinking that he is trying to emulate his father let me just correct you on the offset, the last time Hubby took to the waves was when he was 15 years old! 

I like to encourage my kids to do what they express an interest in, although I must admit to watch my then 3 year old start skateboarding was a little taxing on my nerves and I left Hubby to control that department while I implemented the health and safety aspect by making him wear his  helmet and every knee and elbow pad!  I was defiantly told off by Eldest as he informed me that he was a ‘professional’ and that ‘professionals’ don’t wear helmets and protective padding!  To which I replied, “No helmet, no skateboard.”   Simple as that!

He is now nearly 5 years old and I must say due to his own determination and few ‘wipe outs’ he has managed to stay more on his board than off it!

Our next problem was his desire to start surfing.  As much as Eldest wanted to surf he was extremely phobic about putting his face in any type of water or getting his hair wet, this impacted any form of swimming lessons I tried to take him to, made hair washing an absolute nightmare, and therefore hindered his dream of surfing.  I kept feeling anxious that I had a child who was not water safe and had not learnt this essential life skill!  So I was ecstatic when I was able to get limited lessons with a swimming teacher who is known to get little people with water phobias to swim.  Although she felt the time may not be enough for Eldest I decided that something was better than nothing!  With her phenomenal personality and gentle yet firm approach she had Eldest ’swimming’ with no floatation devices and with his face, hair and ears all in the water by the second lesson!  I could have wept!  As much as I give this fantastic swim teacher her dues, I am also extremely proud of Eldest, who was determined to overcome his fear so he could start learning  how to surf. 

I know that there are many more milestones that lie ahead of us but I am really glad I can tick this one off my list!

A Life Lesson….not learned December 9, 2008

The expectant arrival of St Nikolaus on the 6th of December was met with great excitement in our household.  I think this was the first year my Eldest understood the whole concept except when I told him that if he was naughty he would not be receiving sweets in his shoe but sticks.

“Sticks!  I can play with them Mommy!”

Okay, that was not the response I was looking for.

On the night of the 5th of December our Eldest chose his very cool “Spiderman” trainer to impress dear old St Nick and placed it outside the front door, toddling off to sleep with dreams of “E” numbers dancing through his head.

To his delight St Nick had produced a shoe filled with chocolates and the much awaited “candy cane” !

Later in the day, I found his wellington boot at the front door and upon questioning my Eldest why his wellie was not in his cupboard he told me that he had put it there just in case St Nick came past again.

So next year I will have to up my candy stocks as I don’t think he will try and impress St Nick again with his taste in shoes but rather the size, which puts pay to the saying “Quality is better than quantity.”

An Unwanted Guest November 27, 2008

Hubby departed for Germany last week Sunday and I was all ready to fly solo with the kids until I was alerted in the early hours of the Monday morning that I had an unwanted guest – the flu bug! I became the ‘poster child’ for every flu and cold medicine!  It wasn’t pretty and it came at the worst time! High fever, watery eyes, a ‘festive’ red snozz and a voice that started with a ‘husky’ sexiness and ended up sounding like a cackling hags!

How I wished I could have buried myself deep under the covers but since becoming a mother I have had to take the “I” out of “illness”.  Swallowing down some paracetamol I managed to strap my little guys into the car and slowly drive to my Homeopath to aquire the right herbals to get me back on track.  Let’s just say it was a long week.

Hubby has since returned from Germany bearing gifts and Christmas goodies – I have enough Marzipan to last me till next Christmas -  and I, due to the copious amounts of Vitamin C I consumed with the added herbal remedies, have managed to obliterate the “Flu Bug” but my wee still glows in the dark!  So this week life has fallen back into a more normal pace and hopefully so will my blogging!

A Mystery Solved! October 14, 2008

It was a complete mystery.  Hubby was hobbling upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown. Cursing his old sports injury for resurfacing and unable to find the anti-inflammatory gel that he had been applying to his knee for the past few days.  He looked at me to pull it out of my magic top hat – obviously I, being mother and wife, am all knowing!  Eventually even I conceded defeat, blamed Eldest and found a substitute cream for him to apply.

Yesterday I had an intruder!  Not the human kind so there was no need to phone the Police, but a furry visitor with a very curious little face!  Sitting with my morning mug of coffee going through my emails and catching up on the current global economic crises, I saw movement in my peripheral vision.  Looking up I found I was being watched by a furry little character of the monkey kind!  Now for people living outside of Kwa Zulu-Natal this is unusual and exciting!  For people who have these frequent visitors in their homes, this is annoying!  You leave your bedroom window open for a second and they are in like a flash, some are neat little cat burglars, others trash your home and use your floor as their porto-loo!

I chased my little intruder from my home and believed that they must have gained entry through Eldest’s bedroom windows!  I cleaned upstairs, stripped bedding and believed that all monkey essence had been removed!

This morning Hubby informed me that he had found the elusive anti-inflammatory gel!  While opening our little bathroom window he saw the box in the garden and the tube in the gutter!  My furry intruder had entered into my bathroom and nicked the tube off my vanity! He was of the neat cat burglar variety as I never suspected a thing!  Mystery solved – it was all down to a little monkey business!

So you will need to excuse me, I am off to the shops to buy new toothbrushes!  Just incase! (“shudder”)

Full Circle October 6, 2008

Weddings and funerals are two occasions that can bring extended families together and this weekend my family congregated together to celebrate the wedding of my youngest cousin.  Due to my little people, Hubby and I were unable to attend this festive occasion in Cape Town. (A sore point, otherwise I would normally grab any opportunity to visit the Mother City.)

My father, knowing my interest in the family history, was sitting around the kitchen table at my aunts with my Great Aunts and was asking them for information on the family.  He phoned me with some fascinating facts about my Great Great Grandfather who came to South Africa from England to fight in the Boer War.  He never returned to England as he fell in-love with an Afrikaans woman and decided to stay under the African sun and marry her.  They couldn’t understand each others mother tongue but apparently my Great Great Grandmother said that they understood the language of love.  Clearly, as they had 5 children together!  He returned to the battlefields when the First World War broke out and went missing in action at Delville Wood.  After doing some research into the battle of Delville Wood I was horrified at the accounts from survivors and I wished I could have turned back time to tell him not to go!  He is remembered at the Thiepval Memorial and maybe one day I can return to Somme in France and visit his memorial grave. 

Eventually at midnight last night I decided it was time to go to bed as I spent the night researching this man that came to South Africa to fight for Queen and Country against the ‘Boers’ and stayed to marry a Afrikaans girl.  I had time to reflect on how ironic the family connections have mapped out!

My Grandfather on my mothers side of the family was a Prisoner of War during World War 2, captured by German forces in Egypt, and taken to Italy.  He never saw my Grandmother for five years of which one year he was on the run in the forests of Italy as he had escaped his camp.  My Irish Great Grandfather tried to counsel my Grandmother that maybe it was time to list him as missing in action but she refused to believe that he was dead.  That exact same day she returned to her room which she was renting, and saw a telegram on her bed.  She said that although it was winter in Cape Town she perspired right through her jersey from fear.  She opened the telegram and instead of bad news it was from the Red Cross informing her that her husband had been found by the American Forces and would be returning home. 

Until I met the family of my Hubby, my view of Germans were what I was taught in textbooks. What an honour it was to speak to his Grandmother who could recount her version of the the Second World War to me.  They lived in East Prussia, and she stayed for as long as she could until the Russians started to invade.  She closed the door of her home, leaving everything behind and with meagre belongings set out to escape to Germany as it was the only choice due to the link between Germany and the then Prussia. Three Months she walked with her two children, a 4 year old daughter, a 18 month old son and her aging mother.  It was hard times, sleeping in refugee camps along the way, picking the odd onion and potato up off the railways to eat and she escaped being raped twice by Russian soldiers.  Hubby’s Aunt recalls walking as if in her sleep as she was so weak she wanted to lie down and die, both her and my Father-in-Law had bellies swollen due to malnutrition.  A German soldier saw her walking and threw her his ration pack, she said after eating a bit of it she felt revived and swore it saved her.  Here was a family who due to the war, saw the Russians as the enemy and the Germans as their saviours!  They were given shelter by a farmer, which was a barn in which they had to live with another family, but it was a roof over their heads.  My Hubby’s Grandmother worked the fields and his Great Grandmother knitted for the farmers wife.  They believed that they needed to show the farmer that they were not there to squat on his land but to be of assistance as these people were told that they had to take these refugee families from Prussia. 

My Grandmother on fathers side is the daughter of a Russian Jew who escaped the Iron Curtain although I don’t know much about my Great Grandfather I still find it fascinating that he ended up here in South Africa.

So there you have it folks, I have a Great Grandfather and Grandfather who fought the Germans in both World Wars, my Great Grandfather on my fathers side was a Russian Jew and I went and married into a Prussian/German family who fled their homes during the Russian Invasion of World War 2.

I remember back when this first struck me.  We were having a braai at my parents house and my Grandfather, who was a POW in the Second World War, sat next to my Hubby’s Grandfather, who was forced to work for the Nazi’s, (fixing tanks), and watched how the two of them sat side by side talking, drinking their beers.  Strange to think that during the war these two would never have spoken to one another but there they were, united as a family under the African sun.  Everything comes around full circle.