Our beloved Aunt in Germany has stopped coming to South Africa for Christmas.  She prefers to soak up the Christmas cheer with her friends at the many Christmas Markets and then escape the wet weather of January through to April by soaking up the much-needed sun here in South Africa.  I can’t blame her!  However, we have experienced a huge loss due to this decision. Lebkuchen, Stollen and Cinnamon Stars! 

Nothing made it feel more like Christmas than getting together on a Sunday for “Advent Coffee” and gorging on  pieces of Stollen, (German Christmas Cake), Lebkuchen, (a type of spiced cake, sometimes coated in chocolate) and Zimt Sterne, (Cinnamon Stars).  Thankfully, due to a more global economy, some stores here in South Africa started stocking various of these items imported from Germany.  Hooray, we could eat Lebkuchen for another year!  Last year my hopes were dashed when I found that many stores decided that South Africans would stick to the humble Christmas mince-pie and didn’t bring in any of my favourite German delicacies.  Luckily for me, Hubby did a visit to Germany, and at my request, came back with the much awaited mother load of Lebkuchen and Zimt Sterne!  So we celebrated another year the ‘normal’ way.

This year I went on another scavenger hunt on the quest to find Lebkuchen, which I found, although the price could suck the Christmas cheer out of anybody!  So I bought my stash and packed it away in the grocery cupboard awaiting our first Advent with my Father-In-Law.  Coffee was made and my stash of Lebkuchen and Stollen were enjoyed.  I didn’t put it all out, there are four Sundays till Christmas and I was determined to have a bit every Sunday!

The box was considerably lighter this  Sunday…  I was  horrified!  What happened to my stash!

Devastated, I informed Hubby that we were a few Lebkuchen short of  an “Advent Coffee” when he, looking most forlorn, exclaimed “Oh no! I was enjoying my lebkuchen in the mornings, don’t we have any more?”

So while we were all tucked up in bed with “visions sugar plums dancing in our heads” Hubby was starting his day with a morning mug of java and a Lebkuchen or two! 

My New Years Resolution…. learn to bake!

Today is another World  AIDS Day.  A day to remember those who fought the disease and those who are still fighting it.  A day to bring about AIDS awareness in the hope that this virus can be stopped in its tracks.

Today I want to remember the children, particularly in the rural areas, who have lost their parents to HIV/AIDS.  Many, becoming the primary caregiver to the ill parent and nursing them in their final days.  Many, orphaned by HIV/AIDS who are then left to become the head of the house and the parent figure to their younger siblings.  Children, who due to HIV/AIDS,  have had a fast forward button pushed on their little lives forcing them to grow up before their time and taking on the responsibilities of an adult.

Tabelo Timse has written an article called “SA’s Aids time bomb” on News 24.com.   This report states, that due to South Africa’s delayed response to HIV/AIDS, it is estimated that by 2015,  32% of South Africa’s children will have lost one or both parents to the disease. 

These are children who were failed by their government while their parents were alive and I question what type of support their government will give them when they are left to fend for themselves.

It’s easy to play the blame game, but today, I want to remember these children who have been left behind.

It’s the end of the year, and quite honestly I am tired of kiddies birthday parties!  My humblest apologies to all those who are born in the last few months of the year but my enthusiasm, and there was very little to begin with, has waned!

Eldest is still at the age where moms are required to attend these birthday parties. The worst party time for me is the Friday afternoon!  This is when Wee One generally needs his afternoon nap and taking an overstimulated 2-year-old to a party is a nightmare!  While I run around, trying to stop him from climbing to the top of the jumping castle or shoving more than one sweet in his mouth, the other mothers sit in their little groups, sipping tea and complimenting the hostess on her fabulous cake.   I constantly clock watch, waiting for each half hour to pass so that I can smile at the mothers, say goodbye and make sure my child thanks the hostess for the lovely party.   By the end of the two-hour party, I generally leave dragging one child behind me and holding  the youngest in a vice like grip, looking like I had the party of my life! 

When that time arrived on Friday I gathered up my troops and sent  Eldest off to do the ‘polite routine’ by thanking the party mom.

These days something called a ‘party pack’ has been accepted as normal party etiquette, although I totally disagree with this practice.  Each child is given a bag or box of goodies on departure to continue the gorge fest when they get home, much to the joy of the mother who already has her offspring buzzing on a sugar high.  So you can imagine my joy when he emerged with his ‘loot box’ of chocolates and sweets!  Imagine my horror when it was accompanied by a clear plastic bag filled with water and a goldfish swimming around in it!!!

I kid you not!  Each child was sent home with a real live goldfish!  My son was overjoyed!  If I’d known that we would be receiving this parting gift I would have made a quick and impolite exit down the road!

My son has named him Luka and as I was totally unprepared for the new addition to our family, my salad bowl has had to suffice as our gold fellow’s first home.

It was Christmas Eve, 2002 and we were sitting on the veranda of my father-in-laws home, wet from a late evening dip in the pool, trying to cool down from the heat of the KwaZulu-Natal summer.  We had nuts, marzipan and lebkuchen to snack on while the candles of advent were flickering in the fading light. I remember that the conversation was centered around Christmas and it’s traditions when Hubby’s grandfather, who at this stage was in his late 80’s, looked out into the distance and  said ” I always used to love the Christmas time but it never felt like Christmas again after I left Memel.”  I couldn’t quite comprehend at the time the gravity of his statement.

During July this year my father-in-law and his sister embarked on a tour of the old East Prussia.  A country which no longer exists.  Strange thought that.  Memelland is now part of Lithuania and known as Klaepaedia.  In the time of my husband’s grandparents it was a thriving harbour town and although its governance seemed to switch between that of Germany and Lithuania,  it had its own monetary system, its people spoke German with a different dialect and used words that were considered “old prussian”.  During the war the Prussians fled their homes due to the invading Russian Army who assisted the allied forces in World War 2.  My husband’s grandfather came from a family of seven children and he never heard or saw them again after the war.  He heard that his father had died of malnutrition as he was too old to flee.  It was a miracle that my husband’s grandmother, aunt and father survived the 3 months on foot to reach the only place where they felt they would be accepted, into war-torn Germany.  What was left of their memories of Memel and Prussia were a few photographs and the stories that were told around the table on a rare occasion, like it was on this particular Christmas Eve.  I think it was too painful for them to relive their memories of Memel, of what and who they lost during the war.

My father-in-law and his sister returned to the places they had been told about, although they were born there, they left too young, with no memory of their birth country.  They walked along the shoreline of Nidden where their parents would sunbathe in their youth , they were shown original buildings that had not been destroyed and monuments that have been erected to remember the people of East Prussia and those who died trying to flee its borders. 

While looking at the many photo’s of this tour, that had taken them back to their roots, I realised what my husband’s grandfather was trying to say all those years ago.  I realised that he had lost his home and culture, even though they lived in Germany and eventually South Africa, part of his heart lived on in Memelland. A place he was forced to leave and could never reach again as it fell behind the iron curtain.  When it was finally lifted he was too old to go back and make his peace.  His children have gone, they have tried to piece together the names of places to the stories they were told, taken photo’s of the churches they were baptised in and tried to connect with what made them Prussian. 

Amongst the gifts of German chocolates, spaetzle and toys for my boys, was a small bag of sand.  They couldn’t take their parents back to Memel but they brought some of Memel back to South Africa and although it is only symbolic, we will scatter the earth on their graves, it’s the best we can do.

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…

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!

I have reached the middle point of the holiday break and still holding on to my sanity!  Don’t get me wrong I LOVE my kids, but my Eldest has the worst case of verbal diarrhoea, (an affliction he apparently inherited from me), and from the time he wakes up to the time he goes to sleep it is non-stop chatter, questions and commentary!  Wee One can still attend his little playgroup in the mornings but once he awakes from his afternoon slumber it is as if somebody has let the Tasmanian Devil lose in my house! 

So due to lack of energy and time for any thoughts whatsoever I am entertaining you all with a meme I read on Charlotte’s Web.  It looked like fun and sometimes it is fun recalling a few firsts in ones life!

Here are my 25 Firsts: -

1.  Who was your first prom date?  Proms are not really done in South Africa but we do have a “Matric Dance” which I  have always believed to be similar.  The high school I attended was co-ed (boys and girls) and for some or other harsh reason we had to go to the dance with somebody in our year from our school.  My date for the evening was a Robert, who did driving lessons before school started so that he would be able to get his drivers license and  drive us to the dance.  There was no romance there whatsoever, well at least not from my side, as I had just met my ‘Future Hubby’.  I do believe, thinking back, I could have been a better date to Robert.

2.  Do you still talk to your first love?  The young dude who I thought was my first love was probably my first crush, the last time I spoke to him was as I was leaving to study at University.  My first ‘real’ love was and still is Hubby and thankfully after nearly 10 years of marriage we still talk!

3.  What was your first alcoholic drink?  Mmm, at a sleepover, me and two of my friends got into Mom and Dads drinks cabinet and had a few tastings of “Irish Cream”.  Luckily, my parents were never big drinkers and Mom only found out about my bit of mischief months later!

4.  What was your first job?  Doing children’s shows for a promotions company.

5.  What was your first car?  A lovable little blue and white VW Citi Golf!  He came to our family with the name Henry and when we had to part ways I vowed never to get into a personal relationship with a car again!  It broke my heart! 

6.  Who was the first person to text you today?  A dear friend of mine who is also at home with her energetic little boys!  We are hoping to join forces tomorrow and brave the madness!

7.  Who was the first person you thought of this morning?  Batman.  I didn’t have a choice my Eldest woke me up dressed in his Batman outfit asking me to tie on his cape for him.

8.  Who was your first grade teacher?  A Mrs Swart, I will always remember her as the person who taught me to read, something I had always wanted to do! 

9.  Where did you go on your first flight in a plane?  My first flight was with my mom and brother to the then “South West Africa” now known as Namibia to visit my grandparents who had recently relocated there from Cape Town.

10.  Who was your first best friend and do you still talk?  A stunning person, Leanne, who I was always in contact with even after my parents relocated to KwaZulu-Natal.   We lost touch after the Varsity Years but actually saw each other over Christmas last year again.  Facebook is good for some things after all!

11.  Where was your first sleepover?  Funnily enough at Leanne’s, a whole group of us decided to form a band and practice our music at her house as she had a ‘loft room’.  I think we still disturbed her parents with our noise at 2 am!

12.  Who was the first person you talked to today?  Its a bit fuzzy, either it was my Eldest son dressed as Batman or Hubby who brought me coffee in bed to ensure that I got out of bed as he was leaving for work in half an hour.  Being a deep sleeper has its drawbacks!

13.  Whose wedding were you in for the first time?  Not that I remember but apparently my Aunts as a flower girl.

14.  What was the first thing you did this morning?  Tied on ‘Batman’s’ cape!

15.  What was the first concert you went to?  If memory serves, it was a “Live” concert.

16.  First tattoo?  What?  And have it sag half way down my body as I age – no thanks!

17.  First piercing?  None!  Mom had me facing the ‘firing’ squad’ for my first set of earrings at 3 years of age and Dad thundered into the jewellers, whipped me off the chair saying “If God wanted my daughter to have holes in her ears he would have made her that way.”  I never bothered to get them done or had any desire to wear them.

18.  First foreign country you went to?  Deutschland. 

19.  First movie you remember seeing?  Bambi and I balled the whole way through from the moment Bambi lost his mommy! Nothing else mattered – Bambi didn’t have a mommy and that was earth shattering to my 4 year old mind!

20.  What state did you first live in?  I was born in the Western Cape,  the province that boasts fine wines and Table Mountain.

21.  Who was your first room mate?  A strong and brave girl at Uni, named Wandi, who I have sadly lost touch with.  I often wonder where or what she is doing in the world.

22.  When was your first detention?  Who me?  I was the good girl! ; )

23.  If you had one wish what would it be?  To live in a crime free South Africa, now wouldn’t that be paradise?

24.  What is one thing you would learn, given the chance?  Homeopathy.  Although the chemistry side leaves me paralysed with fear!

25.  Who will be the next person to post this?  Whoever would like a trip down memory lane!

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.

I am slowly coming to terms with an additional role to my already bulging portfolio of “Mom”, I have entered the realm of “frantically rushing from school to afternoon sport activities” and therefore “Soccer Mom,  I Am”.

I got a taste of it last term when I decided that extra effort had to be given to my Eldest to become swim safe, I also think that being the only boy to splash in the pool wearing armbands at a class party can be pretty damning to an already sensitive little ego.  So for 2 months, twice a week, I would throw Wee One and packed lunches in the car, make a mad dash to the school to pick up Eldest , throw the packed lunches on their laps and hit the freeway to attend the swim school of a highly recommended teacher.  For 15 minutes I would try and keep Wee One from drowning himself  while cheering Eldests swim efforts.  It paid off, by Eldests last lesson he could finally swim and his water phobia was put to rest. 

This term has snowballed into something a little bigger.  Eldest expressed an interest in Karate , as I thought this would be a good confidence builder I went about to choose a Karate style and Sensei that would foster that in him, unfortunately it was not the Karate offered at the school and once again I hit the road every Monday.  Then, just to add to my chaos, Eldest wanted to play soccer and so Wednesday’s  have became another mad dash with packed lunches.   In between Monday and Wednesday he also participates in a club activity after school, so every Tuesday I have to occupy Wee One for an hour before picking up his brother, getting home and putting him down for his afternoon nap!

I am so glad tomorrow is Thursday!  In fact I may have an afternoon nap myself!

Dear Blog!

My dear friend it has been a full year since we became acquainted.  You have been there to hear my moans and groans, my rants and raves and waited patiently for me to visit you when for weeks I neglected you.  It’s not you, it’s me you understand?  I need to feel creative and inspired to write and that unfortunately seems to elude me during times of stress and worry …. which I blame my star signs for!  That’s what you get when you have your feet in both camps, one foot in Virgo and the other in Libra. (I have to put the blame somewhere, after all I am perfect!) ; )

Luckily, we have made a few friends during this past year and they pop in every now and then to keep you company, unfortunately many seem to be seeking the medicinal properties of parsley tea which I didn’t write too favourably about here. 

This year we were introduced to something called a meme, I think we did pretty alright here for our first attempt. Most posts were written with a huge amount of sleep deprivation which did cause us a certain amount of embarrassment here and you love me even though I will never look like a supermodel which I lamented about here , you have at least allowed me to laugh at myself!

So Blog darling, here’s to another year!  Blog and I would like to thank Charlotte, Honeypiehorse, Lizzy, Pete, Kit and Gill for  reading and commenting, its been fabulous getting to know you all!  Like I need an excuse, I’ll be popping the bubbly and raising my glass to more rants, raves and everything else!  (Even if it is written with very poor grammar!)