Euthanasia – would you?

I know this is a bit of a grim topic for a Tuesday as we are all probably feeling a bit grim anyway having to be back at work after the holidays, but I read this article about twins that decided to have themselves Euthanised and thought WTF?

In a nutshell (and I quote):

The (deaf) twins had lived and worked together their whole lives. They worked as cobblers, suffered spinal and heart disease, and were about to lose their vision from glaucoma.

and

Many will wonder why my brothers have opted for euthanasia because there are plenty of deaf and blind that have a ‘normal’ life,” he said. “But my brothers trudged from one disease to another. They were really worn out.”

“They lived together, did their own cooking and cleaning. You could eat off the floor. Blindness would have made them completely dependent. They did not want to be in an institution,” said Mr Verbessem.

It could be that I’m super sensitive to the fact that twins decided to have themselves Euthanised because I have twins, but this just strikes me as very, very wrong.

Dying is not really something I spend a lot of time thinking about and I have wondered on occasion under what circumstances I would choose to have myself Euthanised. I have thought maybe if I had dementia or Alzheimer’s, but at which point do you draw the line, because generally speaking when you are ready to draw the line you wouldn’t care anyway.

Terminal illness? No thanks, I would want to suck those last few days/minutes/hours out of life and spend them with my family.

If you knew were you going to die on a certain day you could probably plan things properly and book your funeral in advance and choose your own casket etc, but in my heart of Calvinistic upbringing hearts I can’t get my head around it.  It just seems very cold and calculated. Maybe I just like the fact of NOT knowing when I’m going to die, I prefer the element of surprise, if you know what I mean. Or am I very old school and narrowminded in my thinking?

What do you think, would you choose to have yourself taken out of the gene pool and if so, under which circumstances? 

 

 

 

To judge or not to judge, that is the question

I was all fired up to write a very scathing post about inauthentic people with double standards today, but then I started thinking about 2 incidents that happened recently with the kids.

The girls and I were at a mall when we were on holiday when they saw a woman who was a dwarf. They did the whole pointing and staring thing and LOUDLY proclaimed how ugly she was. I fervently wished that the earth would swallow me. There was also no escape as it was in the parking lot and, as you know, our children are not known for their inside voices. So, not only did her party hear, but also everyone in the greater Vredenburg area. Charming.

Lucky for me they were lovely people that just laughed when they saw my red face. We then had the conversation about people that might look different on the outside, but that are extra special because Jesus made them differently. And how it was rude to point and stare.

Today Daniel and I were at the shops and as we walk out we pass a woman with no legs or arms in a wheelchair. Right on cue Daniel stares, points and proclaims her to be ugly. Rinse and repeat the cringing, blushing and speech.

Tonight we sat them down and explained to them all again how rude it is to point and stare. That everyone was made differently and that people that look different are not ugly in any way whatsoever. They are just different and very special (in a good way). And because you don’t know them you can’t say they are ugly. Ever.

A little bit of me wonders if I did something at some point, maybe judged someone just on appearance and the kids picked up on it. Or if they are just being children.

And human.

We all judge, whether we like it or not.

If I seem a bit cranky I apologise, but I’m sick in bed with bronchitis on the 4th day of the year and I’m not pleased. Besides, several people have been real assholes to people I care about recently.

So there.

Christmas 2012

Here we are, sitting on the stoep of our rented house in Shelley Point, each with our electronic reading devices. In silence, like old people.

I refuse to apologise, the silence is too precious.

We can hear the waves crashing and our children are strewn across our bed, comatose after 3 days of sun, sand, sea, presents and 24/7 attention.

Over the last few days my thoughts have wandered to how our summer holidays have changed since the children. Our first summer foray away with Daniel to Betty’s Bay was a catastrophe. Terrible weather, couldn’t leave the house for 8 days, I vowed never again.

The next summer I was pregnant with the girls. I spent that holiday floating in a pool. But only just.

Then there was the trip to Arniston with a pram, camp cots, bottles, nappies, dummies and the whole bang shoot. Not to mention a toddler and 2 crawling babies.

Then there was Stilbay. Better only because there were fewer bottles, no camp cots, helping hands and the river. They loved that river, we will definitely go there again.

Then we stayed home and had ourselves a biggass family Christmas at our house. Not a year I remember fondly.

Last year we were also home, but things were looking up.

This year has by far been the best holiday year with the kids. No prams, no nappies. They dress and feed themselves. They wipe their own bums. Those are huge things for a household with 3 kids, trust me.

They chat, they draw, they play with each other. They love to be with us, they are surprisingly helpful, especially Mignon. Daniel is getting some much needed alone time with his Daddy catching fish and us girls go for walks on the beach in the mornings. Isabel is just, well, Isabel, my bright and happy gal. My parents and sister came up for a lovely visit and stayed for Christmas.

I guess I’m feeling a little nostalgic. I’m thinking of the Christmases of my youth. Kimberley in December with my Dad’s parents, long since passed away. My cousins. More Christmas on a farm in Campbell with my other Grandparents, also long gone, with more cousins.

I wonder, what memories are we giving our children? Will they look back fondly at the Christmases of their youth one day? Are we doing enough to make these holidays special so that they sustain them until the next time we can stand still.

As a family.

And exhale.

Read this you must

I found this on Pinterest tonight and it sums up so much of what has been going through my mind lately.

Us women look at our lives and bodies and parenting skills and often find fault because we are so damn hard on ourselves.

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Pondering Eskom

Isn’t this scary?

I don’t know about you, but I have been reading and worrying about the proposed Eskom increases lately as we are a rather large household. (family of 5 plus a live-in domestic worker 5 days a week)

We think we are doing ok, we have a solar geyser we absolutely love that has saved us about a 1/3 off our account already, we switch all the lights off we don’t need, we only switch on the second (small) geyser for a few hours every day, we have energy-efficient light bulbs and we have a gas stove and heater.  And yet, our account is in the region of R1 500 every month and we don’t even have a pool.

I asked the kind people on Facebook and twitter today what their electricity bills were and the short answer is between R500 and R3 200 per month. (The most was R7 000!!)

We have been thinking about saving electricity and trying to figure out where we could still be more efficient.  We have also been thinking about our carbon footprint a lot lately and all those nappies that ended up in a landfill and won’t decompose for many years to come.  And a vegetable garden (more on that later) and grey water irrigation.

On Saturday we were at the Fairmont Fair (a local High School) and met the lovely Juanita from Consolidated Carbon Solutions Africa (@carboncreditSA) and got to talking with her and Neil from Homebug.

In a nutshell, Juanita’s company helps businesses and homes become carbon neutral and provides solar power.  Before you run screaming, I’m still wearing a bra, I haven’t disappeared behind the lentil curtain and I haven’t taken up smoking dope!

And yes, maybe I have been watching too many episodes of Grand Designs.

BUT, imagine your house could function off the Eskom grid without you living in a hut.  Imagine that you could generate solar power and never pay Eskom a single cent EVER again.  Imagine you could generate electricity, put it in the Eskom grid and take it out again as you need it. Imagine you could generate electricity and add power to the grid and (hopefully!) one day get paid by Eskom for that power? (this is apparently not so far off)

This excites me in a big way.  I have been dreaming about it since Saturday and will continue to do so until we get around to doing it, which I am pretty sure we will eventually.

I’m also not even going to try to pretend that I know anything about being carbon neutral, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not interested in becoming carbon neutral and teaching our children to be so.  We just don’t know where to start and we are all forced to think about it as our empty pockets will soon force us to.

What do you think?  Is it something that you would consider? How do you save electricity or have you given up trying?

PS: Thank you so much to everyone that shared today, from the bottom of my heart.

PPS: This is in no way a sponsored post, just something I’m passionately curious about.

 

 

12 Things I Love About My Husband

Why 12 things I hear you ask? Quite simply, because today we celebrate our 12 year anniversary and I had to stop somewhere.

I think it was Khalil Gibran that said*: ‘Love that does not grow every day is busy dying’. When I look back over the last 12 years and specifically this time of year, every year, when I do some introspection about being married, I feel like I love my husband a lot more this year than I did last year. Did I love him more last year than I did the year before? Possibly not as much as I realized at the time as I was not ok myself. But this year my self-loathing is a little more in check, so my own capacity to love is bigger. (I’m hoping this doesn’t sound completely crazy and self-involved, there really is a point to this)

So anyway, there are some very specific things I love about Etienne, some I mention a lot and some I don’t.

1. His humanity. He will feed every single person that comes to our door if he could.
2. His complete uninterestedness in ‘stuff’. He doesn’t need to drive a fancy car or wear expensive clothes to feel good about himself. It really is just stuff to him.
3. His capacity to love. All of us that live in this house know exactly how much he loves us and he shows us every single day in a myriad of different ways. Whether he is cooking a favourite meal or brushing a child’s teeth, he does it as an expression of love, not as a chore that requires effort.
4. His ability to be organised. He is the one that makes sure we have a menu for the week and mostly cooks supper. He is the one that makes sure that we stay afloat financially. He is the one that goes to the library, takes out the trash and sorts out the bills I forget to pay because I had my head in the clouds (or up my bum).
5. He listens. I can complain about something in our relationship and he will actually actively try to change whatever I was unhappy about.
6. He would rather talk through a problem than let it hang, unresolved. I freak him out because I’m a master sulker and the Queen of The Silent Treatment.
7. He doesn’t hold a grudge. He is one of the most unconditionally forgiving people I have ever had the privilege to know.
8. He doesn’t get mad easily. And then, even when he does, he only gets sad, not aggressively mad.
9. He doesn’t stay mad. He is really good at getting it out and getting on with life.
10. He is affectionate. He spoons, he says “I love you”, he cuddles on the couch, he holds my hand.
11. He actually enjoys talking, he asks about my day. He listens and offers advice and doesn’t take it personally when I don’t listen (see point above about me having my head in the clouds or up my bum or stuck in my cellphone)
12. Lastly, he is an incredible Father. His children feel treasured and safe and love and cherished and listened to, much like his wife does. He sets the example that they will hopefully end up like as adults, because that was all they knew to be.

I look forward to growing old with this wonderful, wonderful man I am blessed with.

Lief jou!

*for the life of me I cannot find that quote anywhere

What every (Jozi) girl should know

One of my most favourite friends on the interwebs that became one of my most favourite friends in real life (that’s IRL in twitter speak), Rose Cohen, recently wrote this for one of her friends that moved from Cape Town to Johannesburg and asked that I send it on to Cazpi that also moved there recently.  I’m still in mourning over losing my favourite photographer.

I’m sharing this with you partly because I thought it was hilarious and partly because I’m trying to encourage Rose to write more.  Winkwinknudgenudge.

Here goes:

Places to go for picnics and walks 

  • Melville Koppies in… Melville! It’s rugged and you can do a fairly long hike, but it’s not dog friendly.
  • Delta Park in Randburg (it’s huge and borders on the suburbs of Blairgowrie, Craighall Park and Victory Park). Very dog friendly but keep your dog on a lead. Jo’burg people are not as accepting of dogs off of leads as Cape Town people.
  • Emmarentia Dam in Emmarentia Parts of it are dog friendly (again on leads) and it’ll be beautiful now – covered in spring daffodils and irises.
  • The Walter Sisulu Botanical Gardens (45 minute drive from where you live) in Roodepoort. It’s not dog friendly, but it’s lovely. Take a walk to the waterfall.
  • Suikerbosrand Nature Reserve in Heidelberg. No dogs allowed but awesome for cycling if you’re that way inclined (60 minute drive from where you live).
  • Magalies Park in Magaliesberg (90 minutes from where you live) for retro 70s resort-type fun. There’s a golf course, tennis courts, four different swimming pools, braai facilities, restaurant, walks, pedal boats on the river. You get the picture.

 Where to shop

  • Sandton City OBVIOUSLY. There’s nothing of its kind in Cape Town. Wear comfortable walking shoes and have lunch in the Nelson Mandela Square. Memorise where you’ve parked. You will get lost.
  • Rosebank There’s The Zone in Rosebank, Rosebank Mall and the awesome rooftop market on Sundays.
  • Irene Village Market (45 minute drive from home) Save this one for a day outing on the weekends. Irene is a village north of Pretoria. The market is lovely and it takes place on the lawns near the Smuts museum, which is Jan Smuts’s old house – go inside, it’s kinda cool.

 AVOID AT ALL COSTS – Shopping anywhere near Fourways, Northgate and surrounds. It’s mayhem traffic-wise and north of the North Pole.

Where to drink 

The list is endless but you must try… 

The Radium beer hall is in Orange Grove. It’s the oldest bar and grill in Joburg.

The Jolly Roger in Parkhurst is an awesomely skanky pub with a great crowd and greater pizzas. You can buy hash on the quiet if that’s your thing, but they carpeted all the surfaces in the toilets to get rid of the cokeheads.

Giles in Craighall Park (also not far from you). They have a wooden deck, which is great in the summer. It’s named after the cartoon and the tables are covered in cartoons. The founder was murdered by one of his psycho staff members 7 years ago – but we do not talk of it, ever.

How to make friends, explained in five easy steps

  1. Invite appealing strangers for a braai. Tell them to bring their own meat and drinks. It’s expected.
  2. You don’t have to worry about the weather. It’s always braai weather even in the rainy season, because it usually only rains for an hour at a time, and usually around 4pm.
  3. Do not, under any circumstances, cancel. Braai invitations are real and very serious. There’s none of this no-show or ‘see me when you see me’ Cape Town crap.
  4. Expect the braai to last at least 7 hours. Eating at midnight is entirely acceptable.
  5. Expect a return invitation for a braai at your guests’ house, a week later.

 Tip: For reasons that will become apparent you should not make friends with people who live in Midrand.

 Jozi must-haves

Antifreeze to put in your car radiator in winter, especially if you park outside.

Bio Oilto slather on your skin from April to October. If you don’t you will turn into a scaly reptile.

Anti-static shampoo to wash your hair with from April to October. If you don’t you will look like you stuck your finger in a plug.

A Humidifierfor winter so you can breathe easy at night. If you get a cold, throw in a few drops of eucalyptus oil.

Pepper spray and/or taser– for safety reasons, duh!

What you can leave in Cape Town

Tumble dryer– you can always hang your washing outside in Joburg.

Clothes horse– you can always hang your washing outside in Joburg.

Frontline and other flea fumigators– your pets and house will not get fleas. Ever.

Your ability to parallel park – the roads are wide and there’s always parking.

Mineral water and water filters– Joburg is (apparently) one of the cleanest drinking water suppliers in the world.

Three essential secrets to survival

1.     When (not if!) you encounter a Parktown Prawn (looks like a giant, mutant cricket) DO NOT NO MATTER WHAT spray it, whack it or chase it. Put a pot over it and wait until your husband comes home. Your husband must then dispose of the creature while avoiding the stinky black ink it will inevitably squirt at him. Tip: Don’t plant delicious monsters in your garden, the Parktown Prawn monsters love them.

2.       Don’t drive like a doos. Joburgers are good, attentive, fast, sensible drivers. Don’t daydream, always indicate, change lanes with confidence and never, ever mess around at a traffic circle. It is not a four-way stop – give way to traffic on the right. That is all.

3.       Put your handbag, laptop, gym bag etc. in the boot when you’re driving around, unless you want to be the victim of a smash and grab.

The lingo

Don’t say ‘Molo’ to anyone. ‘Dumela’ is the word you’re looking for.

When to smoke a spliff

A.   Before an electric thunderstorm. It’s nerve-wracking if you’re not used to it. Plus, you can lie on your back on the grass (far away from any trees please) stare up at the lightening and feel like you just met God.

B.   After an electric thunderstorm, just before the flying ants arise. Yes, that’s right, flying ants. They awaken after rains at dusk. Close your windows to keep the buggers out, then go outside with a tennis racket and pretend you’re fighting an alien invasion.

DISCLAIMER: Information supplied by Rose Cohen who has not lived in Joburg for five years. She is not on the pinnacle point of Jozi cool anymore so use (or lose) these tips at your own peril. Should you ever find yourself in a little suburb called Hurlingham Manor, do not mention the Cohens who lived in Culemborg Crescent. It will not end well.

If the shoe fits.

I love the internet, I really do.  I love social media and blogs and connecting with awesome people I would otherwise never have met, be it in real life or just in my computer/phone.

But lately I have been starting to feel a little cynical about my bright and shiny toy.  I feel a little used and a little lied to, so I’m going to get a couple of things off my chest.

Let me explain:

There are lots of really wonderful blogs in SA, but lately I would open a personal blog only to find endorsements of products and brands and I gather that someone is getting paid to say nice things about a brand that I didn’t associate with them as an individual.  It baffles me.

I get that people blog for money, but I’m battling to separate how much I respect an individual in their personal capacity and how I feel when they promote a brand that looks like they are getting paid for it, but they’re not saying.

If you look at monetized blogging in the US and Australia it is streets light-years ahead of us.  What I respect about a blogger like Mrs. Woog is that she is upfront about being paid to blog, like in this post.  Feel free to go through the rest of her blog, it’s all like that and I love it.

Then, one of my all-time favourite bloggers, The Bloggess, has a longstanding and often acrimonious relationship with PR agencies and she is not afraid to say when she is paid to blog and call out people with hidden agendas.  She is one of the bravest people on the Internet I have come across.  (And funny as hell too)

We are entitled to call Blogging a career, whether you are Mommy, Tech or Car Blogger, but we are unfortunately still in our infancy compared to elsewhere in the world, so don’t rush out and print those business cards. Yet.

But I would like to ask: be honest about your intentions and I would still respect you in the morning if you told me you got paid to do so.

Does it cheapen your Blog when you admit to being paid? 

No No a 1000 times No.  I like to know where we stand with each other and you are entitled to make money from blogging.  In fact, I applaud you for it!  Someone thought your blog had reaching power and they wanted to pay you to blog.  That’s HUGE.  Don’t cheapen yourself by not celebrating it and please don’t endorse brands that do not promote your personal values.

The same goes for sponsored tweets, but that’s a whole other can of sponsored tweets.

Lastly I would like to mention statistics.  It boils down to the same principle as monetized blogging: honesty.  If you publicize a number on your twitter bio or blog and someone asks you to explain that number you should be willing to do so in a public forum and you should certainly not resort to name calling in your personal capacity to avoid the question. (If I seem vague, go and have a look at my twitter stream yesterday).

All I’m asking is this: be transparent.

Live up to your own personal brand and know that people see what you say and do at all times.  They know who is linked to what and never underestimate your readers.

If your personal brand means that you give an unsubstantiated number, in a public forum (be that on a blog or a twitter bio), know that people are going to ask questions you might not be willing or able to answer.  It’s their right to do so, as much as it, respectfully, is your right to decline to answer.

If your personal brand is that of honesty and integrity you will never lie awake at night wondering about whom is going to start asking questions, you will sleep like the baby you might have blogged about earlier that day.

Let’s just respect each other.  Be bold, be brave and above all, be honest.

Please.

To renovate or not to renovate

When we bought our forever-house almost 7 years ago (when I was pregnant with Daniel) from a lovely couple that had lived there for 27 years and raised 3 boys, we did some cosmetic renovations. We ripped out all the old carpets, knocked out a couple of walls, repainted the whole house, changed all the light fittings and ripped out the old, orange kitchen.

Then, when I was pregnant with the girls, we did a whole lot of additional work like building a bigass wall, renovating bathrooms, knocking out more walls and building domestic quarters.  That renovation started when I was 7 months pregnant.

With twins.

It was epic.  I think those builders ran screaming from the scene at the end of it, I know I certainly ran screaming to the hospital with threats of bodily harm should things not be to my liking when I came home with 2 additional babies.  The words “angle” and “grinder” still fill me with fear and dread.

Now, almost 5 years later, we are getting ready for the next phase (NO, I’m not pregnant, just mad), hopefully with the ever-so-reluctant blessing of our bank. Always the eager little beaver I have arranged for the original architect is come tonight so we can chat about our requirements that are a little (read: a LOT) different than the previous set of plans, so I might have a surprise or 2 in store for him.  This is mostly because there was no Pinterest 5 years ago.  I also appreciate that it will take ages for the plans to be drawn up, approved and then for us to get money from the bank.  If we are lucky we might be able to take a dip in our pool before next winter.

I try not to get sucked in to the whole “My life could never be as awesome as those people appear on Pinterest” thing, but it was with great envy I was looking at some swimming pools last night, even though we would probably be lucky if we could afford a jacuzzi.

And have you tried searching for “braai room” on Pinterest? What is the American version of that?

I guess not.

My Our idea is to do things as naturally as possible (maybe I we have also watched one too many episodes of Grand Designs), but experience has taught us that “natural” inevitably equals “ridiculously expensive”.

Have you renovated or built recently?  Any words of advice?