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…

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!

Ask Permission to Grow Up Please! January 30, 2009

My Eldest, who is 4 years old and prefers his age to be announced as, 4 and a half, has always focused on getting older. 

As a baby we would travel with his beloved soft toys, Tigger, Doggie and Tom, (from Beatrix Potter).  They went to the UK with us when he was just 6 months old and traveled again when we took Eldest overseas for a month to the UK and Germany.  They have been his constant companions and during times of illness and storms they generally would accompany him into our bed, so I had grown to love them too.  As he got older, he decided to add to his 3 ‘friends’ and soon I was muttering under my breath every morning while making his bed and arranging said 20+ ‘friends’ on his pillows. Going on holiday was a logistical nightmare as we had to decide who could come with him and who would have to stay behind on his bed to ‘look after his room’ while he was away.

Eldest started Grade 00 last week, this means he and the rest of his Grade 00 mates are the oldest in the pre-school section of the school and he is very excited that he is growing up.  On the night of his first day of school I went to tuck him in and was horrified to find that all his soft toy ‘friends’, including those that accompanied us around the world, lying in a pile at the foot of his bed!  I felt quite sad staring at the multi-coloured fluffy mass on the floor remembering how he used to speak to them before going to sleep at  night.

When I asked him why his friends were not allowed on the bed he replied;

“Because I’m a bigger boy now Mommy, and bigger boys don’t sleep with friends anymore.”

I kissed him on his forehead and walked out with a heavy heart, I believe I was experiencing a growing pain of my own.  My little boy was growing up. 

Before going to sleep last night Eldest started telling me that he could save the world and that we didn’t need silly ‘Policeman’s’ anymore.  I went in to check on him later before I went to bed and I found something sticking out from under his pillow. It was a black cape and I understood.

I closed his bedroom door behind me with a smile on my face, my little ‘Superhero’s’ imagination was still alive and well.

Unwanted Receiving and Unwilling Giving January 1, 2009

The festive season has finally drawn to a close and quite honestly by December 31st, I was quite ready to see the back of 2008 and face what 2009 might hold.  Christmas is a time for giving and receiving and Hubby and I just kept on receiving after the 24th and I’m not referring to a gift like the green jersey your Aunty Mable might have knitted for you!  We also gave a gift we would rather not have given on the 28th!  Let me explain the chain of events.

On Christmas morning along with the gifts left under the tree we received, from Eldest, a fabulous throat infection with accompanying high fever!

On Boxing Day, December 26th, we received an immaculate world class fever, from Wee One, topping the scales at 40.6 degrees!

On December 27th, along with a sleepless night of Ibuprofen administration and tepid baths, Wee One started sporting a few spots.

On December 28th, after another night of much the same, my long suffering Homeopath opened his rooms for me on a Sunday to take a look at Wee One’s spots and it was confirmed, despite a costly vaccination, that Wee One had the Chicken Pox!

On the evening of December 28th we discovered that although we were receiving things we would rather not have we had also given a large monetary gift we would rather not have given – to a fraudster, resulting in our bank account reflecting a R12  000 total debit!  Yes, we were still in possession of our credit cards… they are so clever these days!

On the morning of December 29th, despite Wee One’s obvious improvement with his ‘pox’ marks and copious Bicarb baths, a strange rash was starting to appear on his face – we wrote it off to a heat rash – or should I say we hoped for a heat rash.

December 30th and I could no longer deny that said rash was growing from Wee One’s face to his knees and with bated breath I rode back to my Homeopath to have it confirmed that although his Chicken Pox were healing beautifully he had also started German Measles!

December 31st, I went to visit my Dad for his 60th birthday and on my way back, along the freeway, I had a front row seat to witness a full scale “Hollywood” style rifle shoot out between police and the occupants of a white bakkie!  Nothing like a bit of ‘Wild Wild West’ to end off the year!

Did I make midnight to see in the New Year?  What do you think?

Contemplative Thankfulness December 15, 2008

It has been a tough week.  Both my little guys have been ill, Eldest with an ear infection and Wee One with an ‘Acute Respiratory Tract Infection’.  My kitchen counters are scattered with little bottles of homeopathic remedies, spoons and sprays.  My ironing pile has once again reached Mount Vesuvius proportions and the dust bunnies are taking over.

Exhausted, I collapsed on the couch, bemoaning my week of sleep deprivation to Hubby while he flicked through the channels on TV.

It was seeing pictures on Sky News like these that I found humbling.  My children have access to medical help, food and clean water.  I, as their mother, although I feel helpless at times know that I am able to provide the best care I can for them.  Imagine being a mother in Zimbabwe?

The Red Cross states that Cholera is easily treatable by ensuring it is caught in time and by rehydration. A simple glucose solution is what is needed but in Zimbabwe there is no clean water and to be able to access or even afford sugar and salt is near impossible for many.

South Africa borders Zimbabwe and it is reported that in the town of Musina more than 664 cases of Cholera are being treated.  The UN has reported that there are approximately 16 000 cases of Cholera and deaths in the region of 783 in Zimbabwe.

On the 11th of  December, 2008, the international community were astounded to hear Zimbabwe’s President, Robert Mugabe, state that Cholera no longer existed in his country!  He went on to slam international leaders like Gordon Brown of the United Kingdom and George W. Bush of the United States of America as they called for him to step down as President, indicating that they were using cholera as a basis for their claims.  Once again, Robert Mugabe, has found a new scapegoat for his governments inability to manage their country.  Pity the man can’t look in a mirror and point at himself.  Cholera would not be at its high levels in Zimbabwe if the people were given access to clean running water but that is one of the rights the Zimbabwean people have been denied, including medical care, due to the collapse of its infrastructure.

I am still trying to understand why my own government has not taken a stronger stand on the Zimbabwe crisis, especially now that there is a chance that Cholera can pass into our country across the border and put further strain on our already stretched medical resources.  Gwede Mantashe has probably given the most plausible explanation, that Robert Mugabe is scared.  Surely a man must face his demons, especially if he has danced with the devil?  At what point is South Africa finally going to wash their hands of their old ally and realise that he has become similar to the monster that they fought so hard against  in the apartheid years?

Wee One woke again in the middle of the night, his temperature had spiked again, but as I held him and gave him something to keep his fever under control to make him comfortable, I was no longer bemoaning my fate….. I was thankful.

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!

Starting Blocks October 3, 2008

My little blessing arrived on October 3, 2007.  Wee One’s baby year has flown by and I have tried desperately to internalise every baby smile, giggle and yawn.  I always knew that there would be another little soul after Eldest but I didn’t realise that the time would go by so fast! Every time I have to pack away another set of baby clothes, that no longer fit, my heart aches!

Today, Wee One turns 1 Years Old.  He is slowly finding his feet and starting on his journey of life. 

Happy Birthday Wee One!     

Tread carefully.