All About A Boy

This is one of my most favourite recent pictures of E. For me, it just captures what boys are all about


Young man E stealing all the hearts at my friend's wedding in April. I can only now start to look at the couple of pictures I took during that holiday

That Time of the Year Again

It was parent teacher conference time at E's school. I was curious to find out how my little boy has adapted to the new school and whether he is showing any signs of stress from the recent changes at home. I have spoken to the teachers often, just quickly before class and they always assured me that he is doing fine, so I was not really worried.

The set up in E's classroom is a head directress, two assitent directresses and a helper. I got talked to and interviewed by all three the teachers. I felt like it was a panel interview for an important job, and maybe it was?

It was very reassuring talking to them, hearing that my kid is a well adjusted, friendly little boy. Everybody likes him very much. They made very similar comments to the first school he was at. Unbelievable concentration span, good development of spatial/visual discrimination. And they picked up on his fetish to count things, everything, all the time. He does this at home as well. He loves working in the science section and always plays with the magnets. At home we have a couple of magnet sets as well and he is always building things with those. He has not established a dominant hand as yet and can draw, cut, colour and build with both hands equally. Apparently he is starting to relate stories to them, which I am very happy about as his language development has always concerned me a little bit. He is not the youngest in the class anymore and loves helping other children to pack up their work and tidy the class.

They were very surprised when I told them that he has quite the temper, not sure they believed me! I got the name of an experienced family psychologist and play therapist. I am going to see her at the end of the month, just to talk about him and find out what are the little things I must watch out for in terms of his development and potential stress from the divorce.

The Dinner

It was a short flight and I landed in tropical weather at about 11:00. I made my grand entrance onto foreign soil by falling down the stairs at the airport door. As I tried to gather my belongings and my dignity, a very nice portugese speaking black man approached and relieved me of most of my luggage. Looking up, I saw this rather imposing figure behind him, smiling, just before he drew this rather disheveled african girl dressed in camo pants into a typical meditareanean embrace.

We spend most of the afternoon at his restaurant, drinking local beer, eating seafood and chatting away. It does not feel like I have just met him, and we tease each other incessantly. Much later, as it started to get cold and dark, we went back to his apartment (where I stayed), sat on the balcony, smoked cigars and had some good scotch. He got a bit amoreous but I backed out and shortly after fell asleep on the couch.....duh, to be woken hours later with a 'babes, would you care to join me for dinner?'. After all, this was the whole idea, yes? Working 15 hour days for more than a week non stop made for a bit of a tired guest.

I went to bed shortly after dinner. I know...terrible. He was such a good host though, sensitive for what I needed and mature enough to give me space a whole lot of emotional support. Sunday we went for a very energetic walk around town, a good three hours or so. Back home, we relaxed with classical music, had lunch, slept some more on the couch, watched tv and were comfortable together like we have know each other for years. It was quite freaky.

So now I am back home and I have gained a friend. I am not sure what he thinks of his date, but I am well rested!

Dream with me, tonight

I have just assumed that MSV (Maple syrup voice) is a terrible womanizer. Not caring too much about it as I do not have any expectations about this, I was caught for a six yesterday morning. He sends me a message on Tuesday night murmuring that I must 'dream with him this night' and I chose to ignore it. Simply because it got my heart rate up to about 140 miles an hour and I did not want to react like a love struck teenager. Early the next morning another follows in the first's footsteps, which are also ignored. Partly because I have a big presentation with scary government officials and partly because my heart rate has not slowed down from the previous message.

It was not long before I got the call. Water over pebbles, thick Mediterranean accent wanting to know if 'my girrrrl is ookey, why you do not return any messagches?' I throw the lame excuse that I am terrified of the presentation and was not quite focused on his attentions (yeah right, I am hiding from you, can't you see). He reassuringly murmurs that I must just come to him and he will sort anyone out that just looks potentially threatening.

I am left breathless...again.

Dinner invitation

I have accepted a dinner invitation with maple syrup voice.....to do that, I have to fly to another country. My flight leaves on Saturday morning, early. Dinner will be home cooked, at his beach house. He refers to his driver, his security and his housekeeper like everybody has those.........I am totally intrigued. We even had a loud disagreement the other night (my first with the opposite sex ever!).

I have a feeling we are both a bit loud, determined and over the top, not sure. Last night he wanted to know if I want to sleep in the/his? hotel, or his apartment. In my own room of course...lol.

I am drawn like a moth to an open flame.

Emerging woman

So with my usual panache to find the most practical solution to a difficult emotional problem, I decided to sign up on a dating website. Yes, a dating website. I even posted this picture. I kid you not, it has been a week and I am at the TOP of the favourite charts. I cannot believe it, who would have known?? Really nice men too, that are talking to me. I am fully aware that this is not real and all the nice things they are saying are probably mass produced and send to five different women. But it does not matter at all. It has given me something that I have lost. I feel far more socially acceptable and desirable than what I have felt for years. I never realized, but these things are important for a soul’s wellbeing. The woman in me got so shriveled up and dried out that the mother and consultant totally took her over.

I must be honest, I am not really looking for a relationship but it is a whole lot of fun. And I did meet this really really really nice man. I think I like him too much, he is of Mediterranean descend and his voice sounds like maple syrup. Ahhh it has done me good.

It is snowing in Gauteng

Can you believe it! Not were we stay though, we are too high out here and it always is a couple of degrees warmer this side of town. This gorgeous photo is not my handy work - I downloaded it from the Mail & Guardian website


And just to remind myself of the much warmer weather we had a couple of days ago - more game reserve photos. Yes, I know I must stop day-dreaming and get on with real life
My giant baobab tree
Our car was surrounded by buffalo - you could here the little noices they were making as they were grazing

The weekend

The fence and gate at the bushcamp where we stayed was really non exsistant. It was fun taking the 80m dash in the middle of the night to the ablution facilities ;-)The overnight hut in which we stayed, it is not for general use by tourists.
My little man fast asleep in the back window of the Jeep - he was so well behaved throughout all the slow drives we took around the park
A giant baobab - I love love love trees - I took some mesmerizing close ups of this tree's trunk. Whilst lying on my back underneath with 'Oubaas' watching out for me! It was so much fun
This girl was amazing to watch - she got very close to car

The Kruger National Park

Share in the beauty

Still around

So the trip to the game reserve was really amazing. We saw all of the big five and so many lions and elephants it got boring......I took beautiful pictures (I think) but have not even had time to go to the mall to get them developed. I will make an attempt this weekend.

And I went to speak to a divorce lawyer last week. It was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do emotionally. To unpack this mess infront of a man I am sure have seen everything and worse. My intimate details. I managed to do it with a well placed joke here and there. I think he really appreciated that - the humour that is. Why do I always have to be strong and positive when I talk about myself to other people? I cannot even break down in councelling. That is only reserved for dark nights under the duvet, and mostly only in my dreams. Vivid loud dreams. Suppose that is a clear indication that my subconscious is very busy sorting through the mess.

It is hard, no jokes aside. I think I will be fine. I need to find me again and I need to believe in the woman in me. I have confidence in me the mother, me the consultant, me the person....but me the woman, is just a scared little girl.

There are still nice people in this world

As the saying goes, it never rains it pours.

My car was due to get new shocks and other minor repairs yesterday before we go on our long drive today. So on the way to the workshop I notice a new sound, well really an overwelming noice that reminded me of driving my grandfather's tractor. And the loss of power. So as my little car tututututut up the hill in peak traffic to E's school I was wondering if this new addition to her list of ailments are cause of concern.

An hour later at the workshop the mechanic comes to me with the kind of face that I would imagine a doctor to have when they deliver the terminal illness diagnosis to close family members. Since the workshop refers to me as 'the girl that do not have any money' (I have no idea how that impression was created, maybe something to do with my broken knee jeans and 10 year old little skedonk with the child seat in the rear) they always feel sorry for me when I bring my little car in and I always take advantage of that. You get discount on labour and they shop around for better prices. So 'the face' was worrisome as this happen to be an expensive month already and I worked very few hours in May.

'Sorry Mam, but your head cylinder gasket has blown' sounds like greek to me so I asked for the explanation. In short it means a whole lot of money, and I will only get my car back the earliest on Thursday afternoon. This will never do as my meeting is on Thursday morning and I am going to the game reserve..dammit.

As I lament my miserable bad luck and the fact that I will not, will not, will not phone Phil to help me out a girlfriend phones and immediately picks up on my emotional state. I cry in her ear and she listens with the attention just a woman can give you, and ten minutes later phones back to say that I must stop crying, she will bring me her car and I better get my bag packed and my camera ready as she does not want to see me again before Sunday night!!

I cried again, just because I could

I have been really teary lately

I found out last week that Phil never changed his ways - that he has been having an affair with another girl for at least four months. Not only that, he has double dated her with the previous affair from two years ago.

This has opened the proverbial floodgate of tears in me. I have been crying on and off for days now. I have so much pressure at work at the moment and all I want to do is sit in a corner and cry my little heart out.

I am leaving to go to site tomorrow. Elrich will come with me and on Friday we are going camping with my cousin in the Kruger National Park. In a wilderness hut, far removed from the tourists and beaten track. I think I will take my camera and just become quiet for a day or two. Peace in the bushveld

A day in my life

Momma, ek het my broek nat te piepie….it is still pitch dark outside. The whimpering little voice is coming from right next to me. Right next to me! Oh no, that means my bed is soaking wet. My fingers move gingerly over to locate the body…feel around, yip, confirmed, everything soaked. Oi

I just pull the whole lot off his body, bundle the cold wet little legs against me and wish for time to stand still and us to doze of again. Not a chance. My nose gets pulled, ears rubbed, cheeks licked. The last one I cannot stand and with a sigh the covers are thrown back and a tired, stiff body expelled from the heat (been horse riding again lately).

An hour later and the kid is fed, clothed and cleaned up, we are on our way to school. I am still in my pajamas…who will notice? The plan is to bath and dress in time for my eleven o’clock meeting. I was so tired the previous night that I did not work on any of the stuff I was suppose to work on over the weekend – procrastination, my best friend.

The phone does not stop ringing, this is in itself a challenge as I have to run around with the ringing thing in my hand to try and locate a signal strong enough to answer it….a bit like a metal detector, the never ending search for connection. This scenario is repeated numerous times before eleven, once with the laptop in hand as well. Only problem was that the spot with the best signal also had the most sunlight and I could not read the numbers on the screen.

At last, I get away, late but not miserably so for the 11:00 o’clock. On my way there I land in one of SA most high tech environments. The scanning of number plates to see if you have any outstanding traffic fines or warrants for your arrest. I get pulled over. A very friendly officer asks for my driver’s license. With trepidation the little card gets handed over. She returns shortly with a long list of offenses, all for September 2005 and all on the same stretch of road where I was traveling 95 in an 80 zone. A R 1000.00 bucks later I am on my way home, the client was not even available and forgot to let me know he has to go out to the mining site. I promise to phone the next day to reschedule.

Back home/office I am doing washing, searching for signal, writing up reports and trying to decipher complicated mining business models. And in the back of my head I have this little refrain ..stupid fucking asshole, stupid fucking asshole……I just hope I do not answer my phone with the first words that comes into my head.

Tips for South African Mothers

I received this in my inbox today:

Safety Hints and Tips from the NHPA:

1 If at any time you have to open the gate yourself, switch off the vehicle, leave the key in the ignition and close the door. Then open the gate.
2 If you have small children in the vehicle, take the key with you (this is the only exception). You then need the key as a “negotiating tool”. The perpetrators want your vehicle and you want your children.
3 If your children are older, it is advised that they exit the vehicle with you when opening the gate so that you are all separated from the vehicle should a hijack occur.
4 Check rear-view mirror to ensure you are not being followed.
5 When exiting your vehicle, be cautious and aware of surrounding obstructions and shrubbery that may be concealing a hijacker.
6 Never sit in your parked vehicle without being conscious of your surroundings. Sleeping in a stationary vehicle is particularly dangerous.
7 When approaching your driveway, be on the lookout for suspicious vehicles / persons. This is very important as the majority of hijackers approach their victims in home driveways.
8 Inspect the outside and inside of the vehicle before unlocking. (Tyre, number plate, other side of the vehicle – as explained during the hijack prevention & survival course)
9 Know your destination and directions to it; and be alert should you get lost.
10 Always drive with your windows closed and doors locked.

Now why does this just not seem right to me?

A staircase into myself

I am standing at the top of a staircase, at the countdown I walk into myself. Getting younger and younger with every step. At the bottom I become ageless. Drifting and floating, just a consciousness.

The words are pictures.

Some tie my stomach in an anxious knot, others let me drift and flow. I am send twirling through dreamscapes, I relive unknown memories, I visit vividly strange spaces.

In this bodyless place my mind is huge. It is a light. It shines in all directions.

My age.....infinate

When will it happen?

I keep waiting for the penny to drop

That proverbial emotional breakdown.

All I feel is relief

It is tinged with sadness, but a sadness that a future I so strongly believed in was really my fantasy. It had no foundation in reality. I can see that now.

Just not good enough

It has started already.

I cannot do anything right. 'No momma, you do not say Elrich like this, it must be like thiiiss 'EL-ric'. No point in arguing that one, I have tried, just change the subject and ask him how school was today. Got told to please not talk to him as he does not feel like talking to me. 'Ok then' I said, just to hear 'Mommy, I said, dont talk to me! Ok?' This is a problem, see, cause what do I answer? Ok...then I am in trouble again. If I dont say anything, the whining from the back of the car will not stop...Oh well, nearly home I think.

A loud coughing fit in the back, so I peek in the rearview mirror, and ask him if he is ok. 'I am just having a bad hoes (cough) he says.' As is my habit, I repeat the whole sentence to him in afrikaans, with a question mark at the end. And get lectured for ten minutes because I did not pronounce 'hoes' with the correct emphasis, according to the linguist, EL-ric.

And I wonder, what will it be like when he is a wise-guy 10 year old?

Yellow Creamed Life

Why do we always want to skim our milk? I am starting to see that the celebration is in the cream. Thick yellow cream. Right were we are, right now. Everything is beautiful.

Yes, it was not the plan, but the future is endless. I am learning about me, so much. Just of late I have met me, a woman. For the longest time she was a little girl. Safe(not) in the love(?) of her teenage hero, who never existed. It was all a dream, a fantasy.....and of late, a horrible nightmare, of endless emotional circles, circles, circles.

I have swop the knot of anxiety on the pit of my stomach for a feeling of eager anticipation. I think LIFE is about to happen.

Yesterday was a really bad day

So I indulged myself and watched tear jerkers all day, crying and laughing. It was raw but it was honest. I slept deeply all night. First thing this morning I let varsity know I cannot possibly lecture today and then phoned my old riding coach.

It is just all about me, Yes?

Transient Woman

No history
Adrift on a sea of possibility
Me

Pappa Come Back

Were the words my little boy were crying out in his sleep last night. It broke my heart.

We are all settled into our new little home. It is very nice and friendly I must say. All kitted out with brand new kitchen utensils and cutlery. I love the countryside and the setting is perfect for us. E has the big garden I always wanted for him and three friends that entertained him all of yesterday. Horses to calm my nerves and the silence at night is amazing. Frogs and crickets instead of sirens, helicopters and dogs barking incessantly.

Our new home is spacious and comfortable and I am gonna make it slightly quirky as I make it mine. A new identity. One that reflects me and who I am as a woman, a mother and an entrepeneur. It is exciting.

What I learned today

I was not being a hero, I was a victim.

I went to see the same psychotherapist that Phil has been to a couple of times. It took a burden of my back. She is wonderful, and I love her. She brought so many things into perspective for me. And we were not talking about Phil or the marriage at all. She just led me to quietly discover things about myself. Like the fact that I felt subconsciously that Phil was my ticket into being a socially acceptable person. A left-over insecurity from an awkward teenage girlchild that just did not belong anywhere. No, it was not her words at all, she asked me why I thought I loved him and why did I stick with him. And I looked at her and said those words and they had the clear ring of truth - but I have never before consciously thought about it like that. For the longest time, I have been the social butterfly and friend keeper in the house, not Phil. So I thought I was totally over that.

She really thinks it is the best thing for me to move out - me leaving the house, leaving the mess behind and starting new. She suggested that the environment in which I have been for the last six or more years has been really emotionally abusive and unhealthy and that I need to take control back of me, my life, future and emotions. She is working with Phil as well, so she has some insights - did not discuss him at all, just knew what type of questions to ask. She did not suggest we get divorced at all, just that we need to give it a long long long time. I am truly at peace and excited to have my own little place.

Phil and I agreed tonight that he needs to pay the money back to me that I used to pay his debt. He needs to take responsibility for his own mistakes.

Finding my Future

Dory's little voice has been in my head all day

"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swim, swim, swim" as she and Marlin descends into the dark abyss

It was all a lie

So we are back from our holiday. I am moving into my own place on Saturday. All I have to say is that a girl should always trust her intuition

Not so Good

I am not doing so well at all. There, I have admitted it.

The Process of Making Progress

When I used the be a professional showjumper I had this mantra that it is 'not that their is no pain, it is not minding that it hurts' closely followed by 'you only learn to ride by falling off' Both those pieces of wisdom is true, to me, for everyday life as well. We only ever learn from our mistakes, and then sometimes the same mistake has to be made numerous times before we catch up to ourselves.

This Easter stands out to me as emotionally an extremely painful detail in the overal process of our healing. But we are closer together and he has agreed to go see a councellor. In actual fact he has had his first appointment already and will go again tomorrow.

A sanity break gone bad

For some reason E was screaming almost none stop all afternoon, I think he was hungry and tired. It was no mean feat when I eventually got him in the bath and for once there was silence. He was playing with an empty shampoo bottle, filling it with water, pushing it to blow bubbles.....and again. So I made my escape to the kitchen to clean the dishes and bring some order in the chaos known as my house. Leaving E to play quietly.....it turns out too quietly. When he calls me to come get him out of the bath, I notice that the lids on all my shampoo and conditioners, face wash (Clarins no less) are open. On closer inspection - also filled to the brim with water. We are talking about the dilution of a three month beauty routine budget here.

Between Hope and Memories

Is the short passage of time

An eating experience

I HATE cooking for myself, that is the one thing that gets me, is cooking and eating alone. Cooking should be done with a glass of good red in the one hand, intelligent conversation with a dear one and tasting ever so often.

The late nights phil has been keeping recently did not leave any room for this. So, I was contemplating take outs for dinner. But the thought of twice cooked meat and oily sides just did not seem attractive.

Then I discovered a can of Yom Tum Soup in the cupboard, from woolies - promising a fusion of sweet and sharp flavours. Just heat and add a hand full of prawn the recipe goes. With some trepidation I did just that. It was delicious.....a definate repeat.

Just for the girls

In about three weeks time my buddy will be getting married. At a very nice, upmarket venue down at the coast. With views to kill for, that is if they can move the crane that recently took up residence between the pool and the beach. Or, maybe they will just change the venue and get married on sand. I know all about that from personal experience.

But before then we are gonna have one rauceous girly party!

Gone mining

My one client just gave this wanna be consultant in her high heels, expensive hairdo and little dress one look and said that I needed to come visit their coal mine. 'So I can understand what the hell they are talking about.' Always the adrenaline junkie, I could not wait to agree and so the deed took place on a lovely summers day not too long ago.

I must say it was far more comfortable than I imagined, we got the grand tour in a this converted bakkie, driving around slouched in the back with an occassional warning from the driver to 'duck!'. It was fun, and much cooler than I anticipated. The silence of the underground world was serene, until they started the LVH (not sure what it stands for) but it is a low driverless vehicle with huge teeth at the front that are used to break to rock, suck it up and convey it on belts to a loader waiting behind it. This monster machine can move something like 27 tuns of coal in a very short period of time.

Safety standards at the mine is really high and I was surprised at how(relatively) clean it was underground. Even though I managed to get my face full of black coal spots - my nose conspired against me and itched all the time.
Even though sparks flew quite often (friction) they assured me that the very fine powder I could see on the ground throughout the mine prevents the spread of fires and contains explosions...mmm and if something had to go wrong, we must please just follow the shiftmanager to the closest safehouse. When asked on their safety history I fortunately learned that they have not had any serious accidents at the mine.I must admit, my visit to the mine was very enlightening and it has taken the deamon out of mining and mine workers for me.

Dead Bird in Bathtub

No, it is not some postmodern work of art, it is what happened to me this morning as I was enjoying my morning ministrations of hygiene and relaxation.

The door squeaks open, I beg silently that E will not request an immediate breakfast/glass of milk/ light to be switched on/dog to feed or any of the other million daily catastrophes in his little life. Instead - Momma look! Kali ate a bird, she is naughty. Weary eyes lift to the left, OMG! A very dead and chewed bird is held triumphantly a mere half inch from my left ear, sad grey feathers floating to my bath water. Kali sitting behind E, her whole body poised for action, keen brown eyes watching every move the dead body is making as it is slowly swung from side to side. Erm, why don’t you put that in the dustbin my boy. No, momma look here, bird pushed closer to my face and I can just see how the mangled body is gonna land in my water. Kali takes the opportunity to make a grab for the bird, a tuck of war ensues with E screaming and Kali trying to get as much of the body in her mouth as possible. My imagination is forecasting entrails on the floor and blood on the ceiling. We are late as it is. E wins out and disappears with the bird, puppy trailing.

Much much later I get to pick the now mangled and dry body up from the lawn to dispose of in the dustbin.

Who Said Men Cannot Multi Task?

Ever since Buzani does not work for us anymore, we have had to control the dirt ourselves. The proclivity with which dishes and clothes find their way into the laundry/basin never seize to amaze me. The battle was already lost, even before the first volley got fired.

The only good thing about all this is the Saturday morning view, as I clean the house and dh does the ironing…and catches the last bit of sun for this season.

It Is All Just Political Vomit!

ARggg I am the one that has always defended our here president, but honestly, he is getting on my nerves

His prejudiced comments on white racists as the harbingers of crime headlines and disillusionment in the country's 'success story' is getting too close to bile to swallow. Followed by his nonchalant remarks that unpatriotic citizens must just leave the shores whilst those of true value will take responsibility and work in unison to rebuild our country smacks of exclusion than I find hard to swallow. Combine that with a severe shortage of any skilled people across all colour bars, you get a society made up of top earning elitist people living in high techno secure suburbs, driving their imported, satelite tracked vehicles to cushy office jobs, gliding to a guarded stop at any intersection where they come face to face with the dregs....the gazillions of hawkers, beggers, pick pockets and smash and grab villans.

And instead of really adressing crime, he prefers to build a R9 million wall around his house, reminds everyone of the struggle to freedom and gets on the next flight out of the country.

My colleagues

My little office is getting more and more crowded. After months of struggeling to send faxes (dash to nearest post office) print (e-mail to the printing shop down the road) copy (what is that?) and don't even think about scanning. I can now do it all by the press of a button.

Did I say I love technology! I am already planning my next big convenience...an i-mate.

Forget the dishwasher, nice lounge set or entertainment centre.

Dangerous Doctors

When I told young master E that we are going to the doctor for his checkup his very insightfull reply was ' No mommy, we must not go to doctor, doctor is dangerous' I could not help but agree with this youthful wisdom.

When I shared this titbit with his very nice elderly Irish gentleman of a doctor (he has the Sean Connery purr and all in his speech), he was just ever so slightly offended. Or taken aback - I think he prides himself in that he is very childfocussed, so much so as to be almost rude to the parent. A sucker was offered as a peace treaty, always an effective bribe.

On a serious note though. All is fine, no permanent damage or scars of the physical or psychological kind, I dont think in any case. For future care, we have to encourage him to pull his foreskin back across the penis head, ever so gently and just clean the exposed area with water, no soap. To begin with we just kind of help him to get the idea, now he is very proud to show of his new skill to anyone that cares to see, or not! (ahm for clarity sake, you don't force anything, just kind of go as far as you can each time and I promise, all will be revealed in good time!)

Flower child

E came into my office early this morning with a 'Momma look, my peepee is eina.' On closer inspection, the genital in question could only be said to compare favourably with a cauliflower. Yikes!! I dont even want to consider how sore it must have been.

The doctor seemed to think that if it is not much better by Monday, he will have to be circumcised. Not something I really want to do. Apparently it is just a little bacterial infection and in theory should clear up if we diligently administer all prescribed medicine.

A Dinosaur in the Garden

I have it on good faith that a dinosaur named blue-ahsaurus lives in our garden. The story goes that he is rather large and turns into a rhinoceros the moment he comes into the house. From there on the story becomes really animated with lots of sound effects and stomping around the lounge. A giant pre historic predator on a course of destruction through our little home complete with roars, crashes and claws.

I have visions of a surreal Calvin and Hobbes comic book future

Kicking a ball

In all the time that E's been going to school he has LOVED it, so much that he would throw a tantrum when I wanted to take him home in the afternoons.

Until yesterday morning when he was adamant that he would rather stay home with the dogs than go to school. I managed to sweet-talk him into getting in the car, only to have very quiet little guy all the way to school. There he just wanted to be with mommy, so I told him to go play with his friends. Which is when the truth came out 'mommy, but I do not have any friends' See, Maina left a week ago, to move to Durban, and my little boy's heart is broken. Fortunately the principle is really sensitive and she organised for all the children to play together with a ball - E's favorite game.

So now he tells me everyday that he played with a list of children 'moma today I played with Sihle and Siyabonga and Mpho and Boo and we kicked a ball and we did this and that and he rattles the day off in half a second, with all the sentences interspersed with either question marks or exclamation marks and me nodding in confused agreement.

But next week is the last day that the principle will be there as they have sold the school and are emigrating. And E will be joining a new school shortly after that, which is much bigger and far more formal than his current little home from home.

Canto Gregorian

Is lulling my spikey nerve -endings. Cannot concentrate today, for no love or money. So am sitting at my desk pondering.

I want some social interaction, I want to ride my horse, I want to go on a dive holiday in Mocambique, I want to surf the net. I want to read my book.

Instead, I am trying my very best (not) to concentrate on getting this freaking reporting pack to my client. So I can tick it off my to-do-list and start with the next big job. Writing the second term report of another bigger client. So I can tick that off my to-do-list and start with the next, even bigger job. Analysing those 600 odd responses to my Customer Satisfaction Survey.

I think that is why I am depressed, it simply is just too much to do.

But I am looking forward to the visit from my bestest friend this weekend, and I am going with her on Monday to get our papers from the Canadian Embassy.

About Forgiveness

I have just received a large sum of money for a job I worked at night and day for more than two months. I used just about all of that money to pay the debt Phil incurred when he had that affair. In my head I have always referred to it as 'his fucking debt'. Cause that is what it was.

When I think back on those 18 months and the hell we went through during and after that, I can still feel the anger boiling up in me. Paying his debt for him has forced me to come face to face with my emotions, again. But I will not begrudge him, I will set him free from his financial burdens, and in the process we will all be freed from the past.

when a fart is called

a bum burp, you have to know there is a sensible preschooler in the house!

'General' Musings

Out of a political melting pot, suddenly there is arising an afrikaner identity. It is an educated one, it is young, it is forward thinking, it is non racist, but it is agitated. The fire that set the whole lot boiling is a song. By a young talented rocker, about a general in the Anglo- boerwar.

A symbol of a true leader, someone that cared, not only about his own people but also the opposition. Cared enough to protect a general that was taken as prisoner of war, not only did he make sure this guy got nursed back to health, he also lobbied for recognition of his bravery by the British government after the end of the war. A true hero and humanitarian.

Everyone is uncomfortable though, does this mean violence and the destabilisation of the country? Different opinions and debates are flying across the floor. Amidst all of this, kids are getting on their horses and protesting against changing their afrikaans school to a double medium school. Local towns are all getting a name change, Mbeki is claiming that crime is only a perception and our minister of health has a serious mysterious disease with everyone speculating on whether it is AIDS or not. Fortunately for her future life expectancy, AIDS does not exist, at least not in SA and if it did, all you had to do is eat beetroot and garlic. All the local municipalities are conducting household surveys, Broad based black economic empowerment is on the front page of most business magazines and teenage pregnancies are soaring. They also culled 23 000 elephants and everyone is upset about canned hunting.

And the chorus just calls for a leader to lead us.

Keeping your eye on the ball

I must say, it pays to work at something you believe in. Even if you cannot imagine that you could actually get there. Like climbing a mountain or walking across the Sahara.

We have done that over the previous year in our marriage. Walked across a desert. I think we have found a safe oasis, right now. I am not so naive as to believe that nothing will ever go awry again, but I am confident that we have learned we really want to be together. And that any future decisions will be made with the family unit as our first priority. From both of us.

We are planning a future together, with a house, a new baby and a possible cross continental move. We are leaving the past behind us.

I think I am more ready now to purchase that wedding band and renew our vows.

In my storeroom

there are two saddles, bridles, a feedbag filled with full fat soya, riding hat, gloves, crop and big safety box filled with blankets, various numnahs, saddle soaps and other horsey paraphenilia. It smells kinda musty, nothing like that clean erragrostis breath that used so sniff me so daintely. Investigating everything in my hands. Checking out the new leather gloves, worrying my pony tail.

I want to remember those big soft toffee brown eyes, the long lashes and gentle lips but I keep on seeing the wild adrenalin rush on his face. The deep throated moans as he was trying to get up. The relief as he was sedated.

I do not want to think what became of that body I so loved. My guess is he is feeding those lions I went to visit so innocently not too long ago. I know it is the circle of life and that he is gone and what does it matter how we treat that which is left behind?

Today as I was paying all my accounts, his name came up on my list of beneficiaries. His name is still everywhere, forming part of everything in my life. His face a beautiful picture in my lounge. The feeling of jumping him a memory in my muscles. I miss him more everyday.

I cannot even think about it

I have to fetch all of Shanie's stuff from the yard. I cannot do it. Not ready. Not now. Please can this just go away.

I really should phone the owner at least. I am such an ostrich

Please turn the noise down

Too much too soon too little time

My little boy has just turned three. He got a scateboard cake. He loves barking at the scateboarders going up and down the road. Yes, I am talking about E, running around in the nude, barking at all the kids in the neighbourhood.

Apart from barking incessantly, he also talks a hundred words a minute. In a mixture of English, Afrikaans, Sotho and something I think must be Klingon. And he is obsessed with cars, helicopters and superman/batman/spiderman. How did that happen? I tried to raise a gender neutral child...sounds so very correct when you read about it. Impossible in our house. And him and his life long little friend had a boxing match the night of his birthday, and he was the clear victor, to my horror. He should be hugging trees and be spending his time in meditation.

His number one toy is his penis, followed by an assortment of matchbox cars, marbles, feathers and dried life forms. He brags about his bodily functions but will not allow anyone in the bathroom when he has to potty. His love of water has left me with adrenalin pumping hundred miles a minute through my veins, dripping wet with a coughing baby in my arms, three times in as many years. Now he is going for swimming lessons and loves diving into the pool - looking all grown up as he holds his arms straight out in front of his face before doing these amazing belly flops.

He is convinced that pigs can fly and who am I to argue differently?

Dump Trucks are for Dumping

E has been toilet trained for more than a month now, both night and day. No problems, he goes by himself and sorts everything out. He even went once in a public facility two weeks ago. That was a huge breakthrough for us.

Until yesterday, when he decided that his dump truck is, you know, there for dumping. He thinks it is very funny and I am trying to not make an issue out of it. Maybe I should move the potty to his bedroom and the truck to the loo?

Darling Move Up

your pillow is over theeerre

This coming from my almost three year old, at five in the morning. He has this habit of waking early to come snuggle with mom and dad. I don't mind cuddling with the little boy body. Just sometimes it gets to me. Especially if he wriggles a lot, like this morning. Then I tend to migrate to the bottom of our king sized bed. Which is where a concerned little face found me and very gently guided me back to the wrestling zone.

Canned and Ready for Mass Consumption

I must admit, I fantasize a lot. Fantasy and reality intermingled to present what I experience as life, my life. Sometimes it works.

With these photos it did not work, instead I managed to capture the cagedness of life. It all started as a wish for the smell of Africa. Moist dark soil, grass seeds and open sun burned spaces. It ended as a faux safari, complete with Asian tourists and American volunteers.

The true king of the African savannah. Despite his environment, no one can question his regal bearing.







The agitation of this male lion was obvious for every one that bothered to care. How is it possible then that some tourists could open their windows and wave at him to get his attention? No wonder foreigners get eaten in SA, they do not read the signs. Or maybe they just do not understand english?









Some quality cuddle time spend with the family, never mind all the gawking cars trying to get a shot of these big cats. Our visit to the lion park left me feeling empty. A bitter taste in my mouth when I looked at these photos. What are we doing to ourselves and our world?

The end to a really kak week

No better word for it I am afraid!

It all started on a misty Monday morning, with P bumber bashing his newly fixed car. The little car's bonnet is so bend you cannot even open it. This a mere six weeks after getting his car back from the panelbeaters from another accident he had back in August. Did I say August? Yes, it took them nearly five months to fix it the last time as they just could not source all the parts locally. Don't ask, that was their excuse.

Then sometime between Monday night and Tuesday morning, some people with evil intentions entered our yard and helped themselves to all our computers. How is this possible? Simply, the electric fence (this is life in SA, everyone has a six foot electric fence between themselves and the outside world - well at least everyone that can afford to) was switched off. Yes, switched off. I had to terminate the appointment of my domestic worker, today. It was really awfull. She cried and said it was not her, I felt lower than beetle dung, but the bottom line is that she was the only person (apart from myself and P) who had access to the key where the fence is switched on/off. And it was switched on, on Monday morning, before she worked in the house, all day Monday. Am I prejudiced or just a scared mother? We were sleeping in the house when the burglary happened, it could have been far worse for all of us.

So the rest of the week was spend trying to organise a computer to work from, and phoning clients and people to get them to send me all my information by email. No, I did not have back-ups. If I can believe the assesor, we will have it all sorted latest Wednesday of the coming week. Meaning, some money in the bank to replace some of what we lost.

I think the biggest loss is my faith in myself and humankind (did I do the right thing?).

Silent tears over a grey skin.
A cruel letter signed in both our hands
How could it ever be the same
even when I followed her
and
tried to apologise
I do not understand
why I did that
But she was right, it can never be the same

No cheating

Before we dressed this morning, with E still wearing his night nappy, he wanted to go to the toilet but could not undress and aim fast enough. So he peed the floor. The overly sensitive mother that I am, I offered him his smartie just to make sure the youngster did not feel a failure. But he very indignantly refused and shooed me out the bathroom with the door closed firmly in my face.

Only to be called a minute or so later.

Come quickly come look!
It is gooone (standing next to the pot with his hands turned up and a silly grin on his face) This is a regular game so I duly played my part.
Hah, where did it go?
Lots of silly giggles, 'Look in a toilet', and he opens the lid for me admire the prize.

A drop of pee, and a giggling toddler urging me to give him his now, well deserved, smartie!

Upgrade or not?

Well, a new year always calls for change

In our house it signalled the change from a double bed mattress on the floor for E to a real bed. The kid is nearly three and only now has he his very own bed.

We ended up buying bunk beds, P got all nostalgic about him sleeping on the top bunk as a kid. For E, it is a space saver, the top bed has no mattress, just a car carpet with lots of match box cars flying over the edge. A wonderful idea, E loves his upstairs playroom.

Except that today he came flying down too - onto the bottom bed. Very impressed with himself. Yes, he intentionally jumped from the top bunk to the bottom one.

Summer Holidays

The last day of school was filled with bubbles of fun in the sun. The perfect day for a party and did these preschoolers enjoy this themselves. Even the mothers (gasp) became little kids themselves and came skidding down the slip and slide. Well only after all the grownup mothers with their kids left for home.








Elrich showing his best little friend, Maina, that his mother is (again) lurking in the background taking photos of him! These two spend all their days playing, fighting and imagining together. They are the babies at the school and by far the favourites.





Exhausted after a hard day of playing. The two little ones fell asleep outside under the jungle gym. When the weather turned for the worse we picked them up with their beds and carried them into the school. Nothing could wake the two buggers up!

Digging for Diamonds

That is what we have to do some days. Otherwise I might just feel that all I am doing is building sand castles. This last week has been a bit rough emotionally. Still so much a roller coaster ride and I am so easily hurt, but then Phil sometimes is very selfcentered as well and his very first response to any potential conflict (not even real, but imagined) is to flee. Out the door, only to return the next day. No seriously....it drives me batty.

But tomorrow we will be married for 15 years, I can hardly believe it. I have this mild suspicion that Phil has totally forgotten about it. I am not gonna do anything. I am tired of organising everything and being the heart of the relationship.

I want to say so very thank you to all my friends here who encourage and pray and think about us. It really does help me to stay focussed and keep going. In Afrikaans we have a saying 'Jy is soos 'n riem onder my hart' not sure how that will translate but it is something around being the rope (or strength) that keeps me from falling flat on my face.

And I went digging for diamonds today - or at least met diamond diggers to do their Social and labour plan. Very interesting and totally different scenario from the platinum mines with which I have been working to date.

So much for my idea of going on holiday the 20th!

Between then and now

For some reason I could not add the last couple of photos to the previous post. On the way back home we drove through Mkuzi Game Reserve and got the most amazing shots from giraffes and a beautiful Nyala ram came down to the water to drink











Elrich does playball at school and this was at their year end function/graduation party. It was quite chaotic and I must admit I was impressed with the way in which the teachers managed to get these kids to listen and cooperate in the middle of all this madness.









Nature taking back from man, roots growing in the tar at the venue where we had the summit for Local Economic Development.

The joy of the coast

I am recovering slowly. So instead of working on Friday I decided to go to the mall and develop those beach photos. Remember the dive trip to Sodwana? I thought that some happy memories might help pull me out of the ditch. It worked, kind off.
Buzani has never been to the coast and cannot swim, so she started of really scared of the water but caught onto the idea really quickly. She ended up soaked from head to toe, laughing all the way and could not get enough of the sea. It was so much fun watching her having so much fun!
There was a whole school of little fish in the water that would ever now and get jump through the waves trying to get away from some bigger game fish hunting them. It was like standing in jacuzzi the way the water was teaming with life. Very beautiful and fascinating.

These little buggers made their rounds through all the campgrounds every morning. Scavenging whatever was left around. This here is the leftovers from our stew (potjie kos) we made the previous night, well really just a lick of sauce.

Can I curl up and die?

Today I have just had enough. I am tired. Deadly. Tired.

I feel like the carpet has been pulled from under my feet.

Phil says he is a failure, he cannot measure up to me
That he does not even think he is good for us as a little family
I love him, but I cannot take the stress anymore
Why can he not just be there for us

I do not understand his struggle

Why I blog

This has been on my mind a lot recently.

It really started with me not writing bone honestly about E's report. Why did I not want to reveal all? Simply because I do not want him to be labeled, even if it is a 'good' label and even if it is by people that would most likely never meet him. You see labels, create expectations, expectations by other people might lead to failure.....I would hate to set my child up for failure.

But then back to me, why do I write and post personal details of me and mine on a public space, accessible to anyone....You could even find us through Google I discovered this morning. Is it a quest for immortality? Do I write for the readers or for me? Is this a self serving tool?

Since any number of people could visit here and never be 'known', the idea of writing for readers makes little sense. Unless it is like writing a novel, to anonymous readers. To let them be voyeurs of my life.

Back to the beginning. I started this blog for me. I started writing here because writing is my creative energy. I make sense of the world and my emotions by writing it down. The interaction I get from some readers here, is supportive, interesting and welcome. But it has also started to make me think twice about that which I blog...you know, managing impressions. A big attraction in internet relationships.

But then I have not managed it here any more than in real life. How so? See my real life friends and family do not know that I blog. I have not let them into the inner chamber of detail you lot have been exposed to.I have a desire to be honest here, I want to say what I feel and think. Even if it is not always nice, or politically correct, or whatever. Because here is where my mind lives, here is where I can be both more and less than what I am in real life. So if in future I am bone honest about anyone, just ignore it and do not label us. We are just your regular boring little family.

Indecent Exposure

As we celebrated the fact that E slept late (and wonder above wonders, in his own bed), I suddenly felt P ducking lower to my body, trying to detangle the duvet to cover up and salvage the last vestiges of parental dignity.

Yes, the young man was standing in the door with a quizzical expression on his face 'daddy what you doing?'

Uhum morning love, come give us a hug (nothing like changing the subject), Phil trying to disengage, cover up and keep a straight face

A Brainwave

Would you like to watch a movie?

E must wonder what happened as he never gets to watch a movie first thing in the morning, and never ever gets to eat breakfast whilst doing it

At least we had time to hmmmm you know, start the day properly, the way we used to when we did not worry about little bodies watching us in fascination.

Oyster eyes

The recycling of waste into glasses,
a niche market in Gauteng.
Savannah’s dutiful final reincarnation.

Pleading to sell, imploring relief.

Why did I hide my face?

Where does he sleep tonight?
That too thin young man frame
I cuddle a stocky little baby boy, sleepy eyed in a cozy bed
Where are your mother?

A White African?

My identity, personal, cultural and national is in flux. I am deconstructing me.

Woman, wife, mother, sociologist
White, African, Afrikaans
South African?

Who am I? I have often pondered my personal identity on here but where does our little family fit into our Rainbow Nation? What are the memories, traditions and culture I want to leave my child?

When I tried to explain this confusion to a colleague (black african - why the need to explain his background?) he said it is not the past we must leave our children as a heritage, it is the future we want them to grow up in. I like that very much. It gives me the opportunity to leave my child a future heritage, future traditions and memories.

Yes, I am ashamed of the past as created by white people, yes I am horrified by what occurred in my country and I do experience guilt when I see the misery that is still evident. I am even ashamed of my intelligence, my opportunities, my education. It is all build on a foundation of exploitation. In sharp contrast to my guilt I also suffer from 'compassion fatigue' and drive around with dark glasses, wind up my window before robots so I do not have to face the beggars, street vendors and other desperate hopeless people.

The question on the Africanness of white people has been the source of much discussion and public debate recently. And I find myself pondering the reasons for the debate, the underlying motivation from both sides of the argument to proof or dispute the fact that the entry criteria for an African identity are the colour of your skin. Is this not the very thing we have been trying to abolish in our country? An entry ticket based on skin colour? Die vraag oor nasionale identiteit is vir my soos 'n turksvy, op die oog af eenvoudig, eetbaar, maar as jy nie versigtig is nie sal die dorings vir 'n lang tyd nog in jou vingers sweer.

So recently I find myself polarising to my language again and taking an interest in our national holidays (something I never used to do). I watch with interest the evolvement, well really, the cultural revolution taking place in our 'townships' (still a comfortable word in the media, despite the apartheid inference). The shaking off of everything African that is occurring under the young black people. And I am amused.

In the spotlight

It is the end of the year (gasp) and we were invited to E's school for our very first teacher parent conference. E's little school is very child centered and they invited each of the parents for a one on one meeting with them to go in detail through their report. A daunting 9 A4 page document, fortunately for us, it states the whole curriculum and E is only (or rather should only) be on the first page.

Phil was very late, but to his redemption we had a huge thunder shower (cloud break truth be told) just as he left work - very seasonal for this time of year, which made the drive really slow. To my surprise, the principle was very pleased that a dad attended the meeting, apparently he was the first to do so out of a school with twenty kids. How can dad's still be so uninvolved in their kid’s lives and futures. I find education one of those really daunting aspects of parenthood and I am already stressed about making the right decisions when e is older.

E did really well in school this year, even though his communication skills was rated as about four months behind, they were impressed with how fast he progressed once he started talking. It took him forever to say his first word(s), fortunately he has totally forgotten those first words (yeahhhhh!!!). The most amazing thing the principle commented about was that he had an unheard of concentration span of longer than an hour (to work on a specific problem) and can easily cope with their three hour work periods (doing different activities) normally reserved for the older kids. It seems like his concentration span has fast tracked him across the curriculum and he is working with abstract concepts such as matching three dimensional shapes to two dimensional cards and the binomial cube (I tried it and it is quite fun).

The problem mentioned more than once was that he is not a push button child at all, even though he is keen to work, he will not necessarily do stuff as and when he is told to. Did not sound like he disrupts the class, but they did mention that if he continuous with the current attitude in later life he will have himself labeled as a problem child and even worse....ack more to stress about.

But to end on a good note this was their summary of our little guy:
Elrich never ceases to amaze us! He is currently doing work that is in most cases way above his age expectations. He often becomes frustrated when he attempts to do things (work and play) that he is mentally capable of, but is physically just too small (you telling me!!). Elrich is a loving caring child who is always cheerful, he makes friends easily and despite being younger than his peers, is a popular member of the group.

Overall, it made for a very nice first report!

Perilous pottying

E does not do stuff you tell him to do, neither does he do things that he cannot initiate, or do perfectly. He has always been like this. The most frustrating time in his life was when he wanted to move and could not figure out how to get his body to do it.

Why should potty training be different?

After the initial 'I want to wear my spiderman's mom' became a health risk as he would refuse to urinate for two days (unless he is sleeping and then he would just wet himself) I but him back in nappies.

Until Monday morning when he came running into my bedroom with this desperate expression on his face 'Mommy quickly klere uittrek, pooh outside' He was wearing a bodyvest with clips between his legs and could not undress himself.

Asking him if he would not rather want to pooh on the potty, a definate 'NO!' convinced me that he would need a bit of motivation.

So I fetched some candy - placed it on the washbasin and called the young man. I told him if he wants the candy he must make his pooh in the potty. Got rewarded by a screaming toddler. So I just left it. Couple of minutes later E takes me to the candy and asks me - Mommy what is that? It is candy my boy. Oh. To the potty: Mommy what is that? It is the potty. Oh. So he made a record breaking pooh in the potty and ate his candy.

We do not have that 'FIRST NAPPY OF THE DAY' anymore, but he might need some dental attention soon...

Eavesdropping on E

I am blow drying my hair in our bedroom, listening to E having conversations in his room next door.

Some banging, crashing and loud bashing sounds
a mischievious little giggle
wispering 'naughty, naughty, naughty'
More crashing
'lets do it again!'
an evil little cackle
Something landing with a door shuddering noice
A very loud ' what you doing?'

When I stepped out to see what is up - the bike, blocks,jumping horse, scateboard the whole lot, are all heaped at his bedroom door. A serious face looking at me and explaining 'momma, scateboard naughty, and horsey and blocks and fietsie (bike), they are all naughty'

A self satisfied nod of the head and he is ready to leave for school.

The (not so) Competent Consultant

Ack this has been a rough week

When you continuously have too much on your plate dont be surprised if some of the stuff lands on the floor. This is now the keys I spend an hour looking for yesterday morning. Making me terribly late and frazzled. Leading to a silly, I dont have time for, shopping spree. To outfit my newly reshuffled corner in the garage. I now have beautiful beechwood intrays, boxes for files and even a mock suede cd sorter.

It all started last week though, when I for some strange reason emailed the combined first quarterly report to my clients, referring to it as the combined third quarterly report..what?? only to get some of them asking me to change the format so they can input the outstanding information...the third quarter is only next May. At least more than just me are totally lost in time

The cake was Tuesday - I was an hour late for a meeting with an IDP manager. Why? Because distance and travel time in SA is not necessarily related. More so if it is raining and your wiper blades does not work. yeah picture this - Hand operated wiper blades on a narrow country road. I was a bit dishevelled when I eventually got there. But nevermind, my idea sold well and now we just need to write it up well and sell it to DME

And yesterday, after I recovered from the key incident, I closed another deal, with hereto unknown negotiation skills.

Impressions

The dive trip left me feeling strangely empty, like I lost something really precious to me. It was so beautiful, so fleeting and I did not want to come back to real life at all.

Feelings of bereavement hunkered in me until it found an outlet on my drive back from a local economic development summit I had to attend in Mpumulanga. Wind in my hair, tears down my face with the sounds of Vivaldi storming through me.

Lifting up, swirling around. Laughter. Tears. Mourning. Letting go. Revitalise.

My youth. Decisions made. Stepping out.

At the summit, flirting, intelligent conversation.
Snake woman with her ebony body undulating in a mesmerizing rhythm to the afro-jazz, the mad hatter's staccato puppet like movements perfectly synchronized. A festive atmosphere in a rainbow nation.

Thoughts Distilled

This was the time last year that Phil walked out the house. I was very sad, but relieved as well. It was like the lashing of a boil, the cutting clean of an infection.

The coming weekend marks our first return to the sea, to diving, doing something together that we both love dearly. We have had to cope with a lot stress organising this, from critical family members to broken down cars, menstrual periods that started way later than normal (yeah) and now the rain. I am not tense, I am not scared but I cannot help looking back and seeing the road we have travelled. I cannot help but believe that the seeds of forgiveness, love and acceptance (for all of us) will grow strong in our little family.

This has been a very tough year, I think on all of us. Not the toughest year for me, by far that would have been the preceeding 18 months, but still difficult. Difficult to continuously remind myself that I have a bigger goal, and greater dream, that feelings and emotions are fleeting, but the future is very real and I am, we are, the builders of that future. We get to decide how we will react to that which life throw at us.

Maybe it is fitting to celebrate this weekend, this renewed unity, together at the sea.

Spidermans

That is what E calls his underpants, and today that was what he wanted to wear to school. Just underpants and boots. We have not really attempted to potty train at all but today, instead of nappies, he was send to school with a bag of dry clothes and wearing his Spiderman's.

I am both sad and proud of him. Sad that my baby is growing up so quickly, proud of his self convidence and abilities.

I bought a pee stick again yesterday, somehow I do not think I am pregnant, but af has not turned up yet. She is never this late. It was negative but I am still a bit worried as I cannot dive if pregnant - so thinking I will buy another one if nothing happens before Friday. Maybe I should just have a beta to make doubly sure??

Playtime

Work is a bit quiet at the moment, so I have had some fun with Elrich

On my birthday dad and E played some rugby, giving me the opportunity to practice my action photo skills. This is the only photo E did not pose for, I am afraid that the only comment I can make regarding the rest of the shots is that my child loves being in front of the lens!! Suppose he grew up with a mammarazzi!!

At one of our Sunday Picnic spots! E loves his brim and always wears them in the car



Some fun yesterday morning before we left for school, it was all drizzly and wet and he posed for mom to click away in the garden

Swimming in pea soup

For our ten year wedding anniversary (Now five years ago) we qualified as advanced divers and bought ourselves some really nice gear. We both share a passion for the sea, but like a lot of other passions this was left forgotten at the bottom of the cupboard for the last three and a bit years.

Yesterday, we took ourselves of to a local dive training centre to see if we could still rig up and descent/ascent without blowing out eardrums.

It was fun - It took us at least 30 minutes to rig our gear, this used to take about 4 - 5 minutes. Another 10 to figure out our dive tables and then P could not remember how to tighten his fins to his feet. Our first attempt at diving took about 9 minutes, we stayed about 5 metres from the side (not intentionally) and then P popped - ascended without intend.

Breakfast and a bit of a conference later we got ready again - took us about 6 minutes to rig and plan our dive. I was 500g lighter so did not drop like a stone ( which I did the first time) we actually dived for 30 min, even if it felt surreal swimming in pea soup - there was NO viz and we had to hold hands at all times cause your buddy just disappeared if we were about a meter apart. We kept a constant 15 m depth, but at our five meter safety stop I could not dump my air fast enough and popped - that was the 500g lighter and the air I used out of my cylinder.

Hopefully we are more ready now for our diving holiday this weekend!! Yeah for four days of north coast fun in the sun!

Where does he get that?

E has started this annoying THING with spitting...a very big no no around our house.

He is sitting on the kitchen counter helping me to bake muffins. And he starts with it again. So I tell him, no spitting. Another little spit. A tap on the leg so he looks at me, I am intruding into his personal space with a stern 'Elrich momma said NO spitting' So he spits me right in the face.

Well, that was it!

Cheeky little bugger had to sit on his thinking cupboard and consider his options.

Loud crying, yelling and desparate calling for maaamaa..... but the anger was upon me

I left him there for at least 10 minutes.

A very teary little face apologised profusely - hopefully he will not try that again!

Who am I fooling??

I know everyone is special

But this lady is driving me nuts!!

Scenario: the swimming pool, eight kids (between the ages of 17 months and three), with their moms and teacher Bronwyn. We are all going through our little exercises, working in a circle - clockwise, except one mom. The same one that lets her kid jump into the pool in the middle of the lesson, splashing everyone's faces. Not once, not twice, but all the time! Then smacks him for doing same, whilst she is looking at the teacher.

E was watching this wide eyed and promptly did EVERYTHING he was supposed to without trying to tell me how it should be done differently!

In case you wondered, I am ready to move into another class.

Is it in the image?

Today I spend all day at a client, with Casey, my newest bestest friend. She helped to make me feel very professional, prepared and just plain zoosh!

Lots of research, thanks to Phil, has led me to the door of this very nifty little metal brain. Not only is she extremely sexy, she has all kinds of additional features, like a build in webcam and movie making software....mmmm can you all see where this is going!

E is totally fascinated by his face and voice talking back to him from the screen and we have had lots of fun playing with all our cool new toys.

My imagination is running wild already - working in the garden, tanning simultaneously, maybe the stables?? Or what about the little nature reserve around the corner, would that not be a good spot for some quiet contemplative writing work? Hah and here I was worried about venturing out of my musty little corner in the garage!

Cum'ing with a legal disclaimer

There is nothing like just tackling the bull by the horns so to speak....it has always been my prefered way of dealing with an issue in any case. Put it under the spotlight so we can see its ugly darn face

Phil's affair left me sexually very insecure. I did not really realise to what degree until I bought some interesting reading, and could not even get past the first mental exercise. So the said books sat in my cupboard for about a month. Two nights ago I mustered the chutspa to pull the one out aimed couples,
Daily Sex: 365 Positions and Activities for a Year of Great Sex! and we read through the introduction and decided that it definately beats the marriage councelling thing hands down.

So we have done 'Sideswiped' and 'Give the dog a bone' and I have learned that P is as insecure (if not more) than I am.

Positively Sexual

I am a scared little girl

My fantasy me is sexually outgoing, confident and desirable
My real me does not believe any of this

I have memories of feeling sexually powerfull
like a predator crouching over her quivering kill

This will require honesty, maybe more than I can deal with
But there is a dream, a goal, an amazon queen

Taking the plunge

I have been walking around with half baked business ideas for a while now.

Saturday I started doing something constructive about it and today I took the very first real step to blow life into this new creature. I must be honest. I am scared. Scared of trying, scared of failing, scared of wandering out of my oh so comfortable little corner in my garage.

But I have to do it, I have to test my ideas, I have to see if it can work.

I know I have the right team on board. We talk the same language, but with very different skills sets. Today, my partner to be just looked at me and said - you know what - you are brilliant!!!heheheheh I am just a little bit excited.